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souliebird · 7 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 8]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Words: 3.9k

There is a pigeon perched on the streetlamp that sits on the north corner of the block. It's got some sort of stick, most likely, and has been unsuccessfully trying to make a nest for the past hour. Given that the streetlamp is curved, this is a very bad idea, but the bird doesn't know that. The poor things weren't meant to be in the wild and a single stick is not going to save its egg from falling off if it chooses to lay it there. But it keeps at it, picking up the stick and putting it back down at different angles.

Matt very much understands the dumb bird's struggles. He has no idea what the hell he is doing, either. He felt, finally, after many a year, he actually had his shit together. And sure, maybe it was held together with duct tape, a lot of ibuprofen, and multiple prayers, but it was stable and balanced. He had a handle on things, for the most part.

He was doing what he loved, in all aspects of his life - defending people with the law and with his fists. He had Foggy and Karen, and he was working more with the Defenders, and he could be in Frank's presence without a fist fight happening. There was a drop in crime in Hell's Kitchen - he'd stopped the last two crime families who had tried to set up shop here before they even had a foot hold.

Then everything in his universe changed and Matt is now the human equivalent of a pigeon trying to lay an egg on a streetlamp.

He never thought he would be a father. It was something he dreamed about, in the deep recesses of his mind, but he never thought it would be a reality. Not with Daredevil. But, oh did God love to yank on his chain and remind Matt he had no clue what His plans were for him.

Matt wouldn't change it for the world, though. Something fundamental in him changed the moment the words had left your mouth and when he met Minnie for the first time, he knew he was a goner.

He would happily throw himself into the pits of Hell if it would make his daughter smile.

He wants so much to be a good father. Everything in him aches to be half as good as his own father was to him, but he doesn't know how, and he is terrified of fucking it up.

Because if there is one thing Matthew Murdock is good at its fucking things up. Especially when he thinks he means well.

So, Matt is taking in all the lessons God has taught him over the last few years and going against his instincts and he is going to ask for help.

Foggy and Karen should be at his door any minute, if they stop pausing to talk on the stairs, and Matt is going to tell them everything.

He hasn't been this nervous in years and he can't stop pacing. He's pretty sure he's going to wear his path into his floor if he keeps going, but he just adds it to all the other damage the apartment has incurred over the years. It's not like he's getting his security deposit back anyways.

He wants to open his front door and yell at his friends to hurry up, but he doesn't want to alarm them. They know something is up with him, Matt apparently wears his emotions on his sleeve, but they don't know what. He suspects Karen might have an inkling because Karen has an extra sense when it comes to detecting secrets, but Foggy is clueless and Matt doesn't want to worry him.

He allows himself to stop pacing once they reach his landing and tells himself to walk calmly once they knock on the door.

He prides himself in not wrenching the thing off its hinges from his nerves and gives his friends a beaming smile, "I thought you'd never make it up the stairs."

"Oh good," Foggy chimes, clapping Matt on the shoulder as he walks by, "He's still being weird."

"I'm not being weird," Matt counters quickly, only for Karen to pat his cheek when she passes him.

"You're being weird."

He shuts and locks the door before following them into his main living area. Foggy goes straight for the fridge, browsing his beer options while Karen takes residence on the couch. He doesn't need to be able to see to know she's staring at the two big binders sitting on the coffee table.

"Buddy," Foggy starts, popping three beers open with a hiss of the bottles, "the past few weeks you have been Grade A weird. You keep getting this dopey look on your face and spacing out. And usually," he continues, walking leisurely to the couch and handing Karen her beer first, before giving Matt his, "I would suspect a woman, or a man, because the heart wants what the heart or dick wants, but I know Matt Murdock falling for a girl weird. This isn't that type of weird. And this isn't Daredevil weird, because you get broody when it's that. This weird? I don't know this weird. So, spill Murdock, why are you being weird."

"And don't tell us it's nothing," Karen adds. Her beer sloshes in the bottle, indicating she's pointing it at him. "Because I agree with Foggy. We don't know this weird."

Matt deflates just slightly. He guesses he's been way less subtle than he thought he was being.

"Fine, I've been weird, BUT," he says with emphasis, "It's for a very good reason and I want it on the record that I was not hiding anything or keeping it secret. I was confirming all the facts before presenting my case. I.." he pauses to choose his words carefully, "didn't want to get ahead of myself."

"You didn't want to get ahead of yourself?" Foggy confirms and he gives a nod.

The response is for both Karen and Foggy to take long sips of their respective beers. Matt's nerves are too riled up to drink his, yet so he starts to scratch at the label to get the energy out.

"So, this is Devil related?" Foggy asks. There's a hint of disappointment and exhaustion in his voice and it makes Matt's heart hurt. He has really put his best friend through it, hasn't he?

"No. Well, yes, but no. It's complicated." Because the Devil is involved by default because it is Matt and it will be something that needs to be addressed down the road, but for right now, no. Not Devil related.

"That's not very reassuring," Karen points out.

"Just tell us, buddy. Whatever it is, we're here for you."

That makes Matt's lips turn down, "It isn't a bad thing, Fog."

"Well, we wouldn't know that because you've told us nothing," Foggy counters.

His instinct is to keep bantering with Foggy and he knows they can go at it for another hour, but he reminds himself of his resolve and settles back into the couch.

He's practiced his speech about a dozen times but all of it dies in his throat and the truth comes out on its own, blunt and to the point.

"I am a father."

Foggy has the more intense reaction, confirming Matt's suspension that Karen had an idea at the truth. His best friend inhales sharply, heart starting to beat harder in his chest. His body is sending all sorts of signals, and this is one of the times Matt wishes he could see - just to know what expression Foggy has.

It feels like hours before Fog finally says something.

"You're going to be a father?"

"No," Matt corrects, "I AM a father. I already am."

Karen leans forward, her spine creaking and her hair swishing, "The little girl. From last week. That's her, isn't it?"

Matt nods, feeling a smile start to pull at his cheeks, "Yeah. That was her."

"Oh my God, Matt!" He hears her weight shift as she pushes herself across the couch and right into Matt, loosely throwing her arms around his shoulders. He leans into it, hugging her back with the arm not holding his beer. "She is adorable!"

"She is, isn't she?" He preens.

Foggy's brain finally seems to process the information and he sits on the arm of one of the chairs, like he needs the support, "Wait, no, that was a toddler, wasn't it? That child was like five."

"She's three. And a half." Matt says as Karen pulls away from him to go back to her spot.

Foggy's bottle of beer sloshes and Matt imagines he's holding up his hands in a mock surrender. "Sorry, three and a half. Plus, nine months that would…Jesus, Matt, that's before we started the firm. The first time."

"Blasphemy, Foggy. And.. Yeah, the Christmas before we started the firm. When we were still at L and Z," he allows himself a sip of beer before diving into his explanation, "That Christmas party we went to, the one good one we ditched the L and Z one for."

Foggy shakes his head, "I was with you that whole night, Matt."

"Until you ditched me for the French woman," he gently reminds his best friend.

Foggy goes quiet and he must be trying to remember. Matt can tell Karen is watching like a hawk, keen eyes and ears trying to unravel the whole story.

"I forgot about the French woman. She ditched me and I guess I assumed you left and…" Fog trails off.

"Well, I did leave, to be fair," he reminds them. "Just not alone."

"Jesus, Matt," Foggy repeats and he lets it slide this time. He'll say an extra Hail Mary for him. "Did you not wrap it up?"

Both Karen and Matt give a bark of laughter.

"Of course, I did. And she was on the pill, but you know that is not a guarantee."

"Why come forward now?" Karen asks, redirecting the conversation.

"She didn't know who I was. She says she tried to find me, and she wasn't lying. Then she saw that interview we did and recognized me," he tells them.

He hears Foggy rub at his jaw and Matt just knows his brain is going into lawyer mode.

"But why did she tell you," Karen pushes, and he can tell she's looking for an angle that isn't there.

He ducks his chin just slightly and goes back to playing with the beer label, "It's not like that. It's not. She wants what is best for Minnie. She wanted me to be aware and have the option to get to know her. She was fully prepared for me to turn her away. She had already signed the forms waiving her right to ask for child support. The only thing she wanted was to know my family medical history."

"Her name is Minnie?" Karen cooes and that warms Matt's heart. He suddenly very much understands your need to gush over your daughter.

"It is. Winifred Love. She goes by Minnie or Mouse," he knows he's smiling like an idiot, but he can't help it.

"That is such a sweet name," Karen hums and he can hear her smile.

"It is," he agrees, then he tilts his head towards Foggy, his voice dropping to something almost apologetic. "I didn't tell you because I wanted to be sure. She wasn't lying when she said I was the father, but that could have been because she believed I was. And I am. We got a paternity test and I wanted…I wanted it to be official. Real. Before I told you. And now it is. My name is going to be added to her birth certificate. I filed the paperwork and everything."

He can't nail down how Foggy is reacting and that scares him. He doesn't want his best friend to be upset with him, again. He was really, really trying to do the right thing this time.

Foggy finally, finally pushes himself off the chair and steps around the coffee table before enveloping Matt in a tight hug. Matt hugs him back, just as tightly.

"I'm so happy for you, buddy," Fog breathes against him. The corners of his eyes start to sting, and Matt tells himself he is Not going to cry.

Foggy holds him for a good thirty seconds before letting go and stepping away, "Okay, before we jump into the whole Daredevil -"

"I'm going to tell her," Matt cuts his friend off. He puts his beer down and leans forward to put his elbows on his knees, "Not right now, but I completely intend to. If I can trust her. I think I can, but we've only just really met again. But I've learned. From both of you. I want to do this right. I want to tell her about my senses, first, and then we can build up to the other stuff. Once I am completely sure I can trust her."

Neither Karen nor Foggy respond to him right away and he has the feeling they are having a complete conversation with just their eyes. He waits. He doesn't want to rush them either. Matt wants to go into this with all of them on the same page. It's important to him.

They are his family, too.

"Tell us about them," Karen finally says and Matt doesn't even try to fight the grin that spreads across his face.

He tells them your name, then reaches for the first of the binders - the one that is twice the size of the other.

"She's…she's Good. You'll like her. She, uh, made me this, kind of big guide to our daughter. Everything I need to know and it's…in Braille. She knew I couldn't read print, so uh, all of Minnie's life she's been requesting copies of documents in Braille for when she found me." He pushes the binder towards Karen, and she picks it up in a flash, starting to flip through the pages.

"This is pretty detailed," she hums, before cooing again, "There's pictures. Look, Fog."

Foggy walks around the couch to stand behind Karen. Matt can tell that even though they are both Happy for him, they are worried, and he more than understands. He knows once he tells them more, that worry will fade.

He just needs to drop the final off the bombshells.

He licks his lips, clears his throat, then throws himself into the open, "Minnie is like me. She has my senses."

They both go as still as they can, taking identical sharp inhales.

"Not as…intense as mine, I don't think, but she has them. I.. Confirmed it. She could hear an ice cream truck four city blocks away."

"Matt…" Foggy starts and Matt shakes his head.

"We had a conversation, Fog. Clear across the park. I was whispering. She's…she's like me. She was born with it, but she's adapted, for the most part. Her mom just thinks she's sensitive, and she is, and she…she.." he motions with his hand, trying to convey what he wants to say, "Her mom helps. She gets her these headphones to block out sounds and all these things to help her. She just does it, she's doesn't question the why. All those little stupid things that make my life more annoying - the smell of cleaning supplies and how food tastes like the sewer or that certain fibers feel like sandpaper - Minnie deals with those and her Mom does her best so that she doesn't have to suffer. And that's…I need your help." He taps the second, smaller binder. "She made me a guide, so I want to make her one. I just…I don't know how."

He deflates a little. Over the past two weeks, he's done his best to type things up, things he thinks will help, but he has no clue if any of it makes sense to anyone but him.

"Oh, Matt," Karen hands the big binder off to Foggy, then leans forward to take Matt's hand in her own, squeezing it tightly, "Of course we will help you."

"We will make the best how to deal with your bat radar guide that has ever existed, bud. You can count on us," Foggy adds, starting to flip through the binder himself.

That evaporates Matt's doubt, and he huffs out a laugh, "I don't think there is another guide, Fog."

"Then we will set the standard for human bat radar guides," Karen counters with mirth.

"I'll drink to that," his best friend says, once again moving so he can grab his drink. He raises the bottle in a toast, "To the best damn bat radar guide there will ever be, and to Matt, whose man whore ways have blessed us with another him!"

Matt scoops up with beer with a laugh and clinks his bottle against Foggy's, Karen's joining a moment later.

"To Minnie," Karen adds and that makes Matt beam.

"To Minnie!"

They all take long pulls on their beers then set them down on the table.

Matt can practically feel Karen grinning at him, "What?"

"I want stories," she says, reaching over to shake his arm, "You've told us the big picture, I want to know about this little pumpkin. How many times have you gotten to meet her?"

"A few times," he says, unable to hide his own smile. "She calls me Mister Matt. We haven't told her who I am yet. We want her to be comfortable and I…want her to want me to be her father, you know?" He hears both of them nod and he keeps barreling on. "She's…she's perfect. She's so sweet - she loves to use her manners, you know? Please and Thank yous. And she just wants to help, with anything. She's pretty good for a three year old at being a Guide. I'm learning a lot about what she thinks is important."

"What is important?" Foggy asks, and Matt can hear the underlying happiness in his voice and that makes Matt giddy.

"Colors. How soft something looks. If it has a name and how it's feeling." He grins and adds, "At the park she was telling me how we can't walk in the grass because it's rude and hurts the grass' feelings. And that we can't pick flowers because it takes them away from their families and makes them sad."

Karen cooes, "That's the sweetest thing."

Foggy huffs fondly, "She wanted to pick flowers with you?"

He shrugs and ducks his head a little, "Kinda? She was talking about how to make flower crowns and bracelets."

"Is she going to make you a flower crown?" Karen asks, and Matt can sense her leaning towards him. The teasing in her voice has him guessing she's got her Mischievous look on.

"Maybe."

"That's so sweet."

"It's so 2014," Foggy adds with his own teasing.

Karen throws one of the throw pillows he's somehow accumulated at Foggy, "She's a baby, leave her alone."

Both he and Foggy laugh and Matt can't help but get his own dig in, "Like you would deny a flower crown from her."

"Damn right, I wouldn't," his best friend bites back. "I'm accepting all flower crowns, hair braiding, nail painting, and tea parties. I am going to be the best uncle she could ever dream of - wait, does she already have an uncle? Do I need to do research? I'll out Uncle anyone."

Matt shakes his head, "No, it's just the two of them. No other family. It seems like a sensitive topic, so I haven't.. Pushed. She hasn't either, but my background is a little more…public? I haven't told her about Maggie, yet."

The couch groans as Karen leans back into it, sipping again at her beer before humming, "Well, it will be easier to keep your late night activities under wrap. Less people to question things?"

"That's a way to put it," is the response from his other friend. Matt shakes his head at both their words.

"I told you I want to tell her, once it's safe. I need your help with that, too," Matt pushes himself up and starts to pace behind his couch, "With everything we've been through, all the things we've been working on as a team - and I know most of that is me with all my bullshit and issues." He stops his walking to rub at his jaw, "I know…I know I'm going to be bad at this. I know I'm going to fuck something up. I've done it to both of you countless times. And I can't give up on being the Devil, we've seen how it goes when I try to go either way, so I need to find the balance quick but I can't.." He trails off slightly as the emotions swell in his chest at his self sabotaging this and he has to inhale deeply to keep himself from getting too worked up. "I can't lose them. I can't."

"Oh, Matt," Karen whispers.

He's so caught up in his own emotions he doesn't hear Foggy get up and actually starts when he's clapped on the shoulder, "Matt, let me say this with my full heart, and I know Karen will one hundred percent agree, and I'm pre-facing this with I love you and you are my brother and best friend, and I think this is exactly what you need me to tell you. If you pull any of the bullshit you did with us with them or anything similar, I will personally drop you into the Hudson. After Karen is through with you."

It catches him off guard, but his best friend is right and it is exactly what he needs to hear.

"There would not be anything left to dispose of," Karen cheerily adds and Matt doesn't need super human hearing to know she's telling the truth.

He nods in understanding to both of them, "Thank you." He needs to properly thank them for so many things, but he doesn't know how and all he can do is repeat the words.

"So," Foggy starts again, squeezing Matt's shoulder before shaking him a few times. "When do I get to meet my newest niece?"

"Once we tell her the truth about who I am to her. I'm going over for dinner tomorrow, to try and be in more everyday things to get her used to it all." He wonders if his excitement about the dinner is showing through. He gets to visit where you and his daughter live and that always says so much about a person. He wants to be let into that bubble.

"Wait!" Karen gasps, turning more in her seat so she is facing towards the two of them, "If Foggy gets to be Uncle, does that mean I'm an Aunt?"

"Do you want to be?" He asks, because it is obviously a 'yes' in his mind.

Karen considers this, Foggy narrating, "She's debating on her head, doing the whole tilting it one way and then the next."

"Oh, hush, Fog! Of course, I want to be!"

This quickly dissolves into playful bickering.

"Aunt Karen has a good ring to it."

"Oh, like Uncle Foggy is much better?"

Matt grins and finds his way back to his seat and his beer. He grabs the bottle and takes a long sip, listening to two of the most important people in his life bask in the glow of their little family getting bigger.

Maybe, just maybe, he isn't as helpless and lost as he thinks he is.

Maybe it will all be okay.

He just needs to have faith.

taglist:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

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@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then I met you

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beybaldes · 6 months

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of the goodness, love, I still carry for you

masterlist

Sejanus Plinth x gn!reader

summary: He sounded ridiculous; you’d want him for forever and then even longer then that.

the one where home is wherever Sejanus plinth is

warnings: okay gurl pls l'm making it up as I go along pls ignore how un-cannon-like this can be at times l've decided anything is possible lol oops, probably 0OC but it's okay because Sejanus is baby boy, final part to my three part part Sejanus mini series, fix it fic I promise my boy deserves to be happy :((

an: thank you so much for all the love on my other two Seianus fics!!! <33 more to come soon <33

The games are over within a few days, Lucy Gray its victor and Coriolanus Snow the winner of the Plinth prize. And you’ve been spending every moment since pulling Sejanus out of the arena at his side; you’ve even taken to sleeping in his bed with him, not that Sejanus minded, too terrified to even risk letting him out of your sights. That’s why you have no idea how it’s gotten past you that he wanted to become a peacekeeper.

It must have been a conversation held during a meeting with his father, such events you and Ma Plinth were banned from even being near, let alone participating in. Strabo had made it clear he thought that two of you were too emotionally invested in his Son’s doings, and didn’t care enough about the continuation of his wealth and prestige. So, you’d figured his dad must have forced him to do it as some kind of punishment for his out-lash against the capital, as some kind of reminder that rebels - even the rich ones - would get punished.

“I asked him to go.” Sejanus reached for your shaking hand, running his thumb over your knuckles as his other thumb ran across your cheek, wiping away the tears that ran down your face. “It was my idea, please don’t cry.”

You couldn’t understand. Well, you could. Sejanus wanted to fix the problem and he thought that this was the best way to do it, he’d talked himself in and you knew he wouldn’t back down from it now. 20 years is so long, you wouldn’t stop him, but letting him go would break your heart. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know.” Sejanus continued to wipe away your tears. It felt like sorry was something he was saying a lot lately. As you tried to calm your crying, he slipped off the edge of the mattress and onto one knee, his hand now reaching into his pockets and pulling out a simple ring, what you would later find to be a silver band with an ‘S’ carved into it.

“Sejanus…”

“It’s not what you think.” He quickly interrupted, holding the ring out to you with slightly shaky hands. The two of you were young, maybe too young for marriage, but that didn’t mean he didn’t already know that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. “Well, not entirely, but it is a promise. That in 20 years I’ll come back for you, and we can be together. That I’ll spend the next 20 years thinking of you and waiting to come back and be here, and marry you if you’ll still want for me then.”

He sounded ridiculous; you’d want him for forever and then even longer then that.

“Marry me now.” You pleaded, leaning forward and cradling his face between your hands. Fervently, you pressed your lips to his in a quick succession of kisses, Sejanus barely getting the opportunity to lean into the soft touch of your lips with each one. “Marry me now, I’ll come with you, we’ll figure something out.”

Sejanus leaned back, just out of reach of your kisses so he could speak to you clearly, the ring still clasped tightly in the palm of his hand. If this was your way of saying yes, it was surely a strange one. “Peacekeepers can’t get married in their service, you know that.” His hand came up to cover one of your own against his cheek, his thumb running across your knuckles soothingly. “It’s not that I wouldn’t marry you tomorrow if I could, but I can’t.“

“Your service doesn’t start for three more days, Sejanus. For three more days you are solely mine.” You pleaded, begging him to stay, begging him to make it work so that you’d never have to leave his side again. He found himself falling more and more for your words with each one that came out of your mouth. “I’ll come with you, we’ll find a way, we’ll make it work.”

Sejanus’s brown pinched and tears began to form in his own eyes. “Y/n, I could never ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me, Sej, I’m telling you. I’d travel the lengths of Panem for you. That Is all I’m doing, keeping my promise.” Sejanus swore he fell more and more in love with you every second the two of you spent together, he didn’t know what he had done to deserve someone like you, and he didn’t think he ever would.

It wasn’t safe though - Trying to sneak you into the districts with him. There was so, so much that could go wrong and he was worried it wasn’t enough to let him entertain the idea any longer. “You can’t, okay? We won’t have money, we won’t have a home, I’ll be in the barracks and I can’t say where you’d go. It won’t be safe, I won’t be able-“ Sejanus paused. As much as he wanted you to come with him and he by his side, he couldn’t let you, not when things were so uncertain. “Would you really relish being married to a poor peacekeeper?”

Sejanus’s words had thrown you off guard, as far as you were concerned nothing mattered except him. It didn’t matter where you were or what you went through as long as he was at your side. Pulling his lips to yours, you placed a long, slow kiss against them, parting and barely moving away, whispering your answer against his lips. “I relish being married to you. I don’t care where you are or by what means. I just want you.”

“An Angel amongst the people of the capital.” He mused, looking into your glossy eyes. One of his hands moved beneath your chin, pressing two fingers under it to guide you into another kiss. “Who would’ve thought I’d have found you?”

The two of you didn’t dare waste anymore time, pulling on your Sunday best and running from Sejanus’s bedroom to the Plinths living room hand in hand, asking Ma if she would be willing to come and bear witness to your union. In the car ride over to the courthouse, Sejanus had apologised, taking your hand in his and bringing it tenderly to his lips, pressing the sweetest of kisses against your ring finger.

“I know it’s not much. And it’ll never be enough.” He’d whispered, eyes unmoving from your face even though Ma was excitedly ranting about how she had known that this day would come since Sejanus came home talking about you after his first day at the academy all those years ago. “But I cannot wait to marry you.”

He didn’t have to wait long. Within the hour, the two of you were stood before a minister, hand in loving hand and swapping promises, sealing them with a final ‘I do,’ and one long kiss.

Neither of you had stopped smiling since. Even hours and hours later, way into the darkness of the night when the two of you were laying together silently in bed, you couldn’t stop smiling. One of Sejanus’s arms was bent back and resting under his head, the other curled around your waist and keeping you pressed against him. Both your hands cradled his face, allowing you to pull him into kisses when you weren’t busy admiring every freckle and wrinkle that adorned his face. You wondered what he’d look like when he was older.

“I’m going to miss your curls.” It was no secret that the peacekeepers were meant to be uniform in every way possible and that meant shaved heads amongst other things. You’d miss the simplicity of it; threading your fingers through the dark curls as you lay together or as you kissed him. So you did both one last time for good measure, knowing that tomorrow they’d be gone.

“It’s hair.” Sejanus cooed, pressing a kiss to your temple, his curls brushing against your skin as he moved. “We have the rest of our lives for it to grow back.”

For the remaining two days that you had left together, you didn’t spend more then a single second apart. Every time you tried to suggest you find a way to come with him, Sejanus shut it down, and you’d been forced to somewhat come to terms with it. Sejanus would be fine and you would be too, though you’d rather spend the next 20 years by his side, at least you knew that after his service was over, you’d be able to spend the rest of your life together. 20 years apart started an hour earlier then you would’ve liked, Sejanus wanting your final goodbye to be in a happy place, one where he’d seen your face so many times. He didn’t want your last goodbye to be in that train station.

“You worry too much, Sej.” Your arms looped around his shoulders, scratching at what little hair remained at the nape of his neck now. What you knew he needed to hear wasn’t what you felt, but you’d make it work just to be here with him. “It’s going to be fine, we’re going to be fine.”

“Okay, okay.” He took one last look at you, hands quickly moving to cradle your face and pull you in for a long, passion filled kiss. “I love you, be safe for me.”

“You look good in blue.” Soothing down the material of his peacekeeper coveralls, you lay your palms flat against his chest as you stole one final kiss. “I love you, be safe for me.”

Sejanus gave you one last smile, cradling your face in his large hand and looking you over, making sure he’d remember every single smile line and wrinkle, then ran for the car that was taking him to the station. He held your gaze until he’d driven so far out of sight he was just a blue speck behind a window.

~*~

20 years, and 20 million tears, to the day have passed since the Sejanus left you. Sure, you’d exchanged letters through out his service and from what he’d told you he was making real change in the districts; he’d moved about over the years but he’d always found time to write to you and promise his return home one day. A part of you was always worried he’d grow too fond on the districts and not want to return home, but a bigger part of you knew that wasn’t true: Sejanus would go anywhere if he believed that you were there too.

When the hour comes you’re already at the train station, surrounded by a few other families who are waiting for their fathers, sons, brothers and husbands to return home. It wasn’t often men from the capital would do the service, but the small crowd on the platform made you feel less alone as you waited for your Sejanus to make his final journey home.

As he paces the length of the train carriage, Sejanus wishes he was back in the barracks - not because he wants to be there instead, but because he’s sick to his stomach thinking this isn’t about to go how he hopes it will. For 20 years he’s dreamt of this moment, and anything could happen, he realises as the train begins to pull into the station. He’s older now, he knows that, and he isn’t the same person he was when he left. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but would you even still love him now, after 20 years apart?What if something had happened to you since you last wrote? What if it hadn’t been you the whole time, but someone pretending to be you? What if you’d lost your love for him over the years and were only writing because you pitied him? What if you’d-

“Sejanus!”

Somehow you’d spotted him through the crowd, running right through it and throwing yourself straight into his arms and slotting your lips against his in an instant. Like an Angel, you’d appeared before him, a glowing smile and the touch he’d craved so much, his once more. God, what had ever possessed him to leave you behind for 20 years?

Every time he tried to pull away from the soft kiss of your lips against his you chased after him, capturing him in a kiss again, and again, and again. It had been the longest 20 years of your life, and now that he was back in your arms, you were never going to let him go again.

“Hey, hey, let me get a look at you.” Sejanus finally managed to get you to stop kissing him, not that he necessarily wanted you to stop, but he wanted more to get a good look over you and make sure you were okay. And you were - in fact, you’d never been better now that Sejanus was back by your side.“You’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” You confirmed, the smile on your face red from kisses galore and your cheeks burning hot to the touch. “Now let me get a look at you, Mr Peacekeeper. See what damage the barracks have done to my sweet Sejanus Plinth.” He looked older and even thought it was all you’d thought about it actually hit that you’d not seen him in 20 years, of course he looked older. But God, even with hair that was beginning to grey a little and more wrinkles on his face then he’d had when he left, he still looked exactly like you remembered him; like your Sejanus Plinth. The bags under his eyes were deeper than any you’d ever seen, and he had a scrape along his jaw where the strap of his helmet had began to rub against his skin. When you reached up to run your finger along it, he pulled your palm flat against his cheek, closing his eyes and leaning into your touch. It didn’t take a genius to realise that for the first time since leaving here, Sejanus felt at peace. “Lets get you home, shall we?”

“Home.” Sejanus mused, getting a feeling for how the word tasted in his mouth. When was the last time he had called somewhere ‘home’? He looped a finger into your waistband, pulling you flush against him. His other hand caressed your cheek, bringing your lips to his in a slow and sensual kiss. Though 20 years had passed, he felt as though nothing had changed at all, and with some change made and an ease in his soul, Sejanus was ready to live out the rest of his life at your side. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

an: that is the end of my Sejanus mini series!! Thank you for reading <33 more Sejanus fics to come but definitely more domestic fluffy kind of ones 🙏🏼 love you guys!! Let me know what you think of this <3

tag list: @celestialstar111

#beybaldes wrote a fic!!#sejanus plinth oneshot #sejanus plinth imagine #sejanus plinth x reader #tbosbas x reader

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strwberri-milk · 2 months

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incubus Lads boys where mc starts falling in love with them on accident 🔞🤭😫

HMM im seeing this as??? like. l&ds beginning a sexual relationship only to satisfy their incubus desires and mc falling in love w them thereby breaking their friends w benefits situation but also. its so sweet if both of them are in love and i kinda did that bc if i didnt itd be too angsty and i just like happiness ;-; - also pls mind the growing pains theres a reason why rafayels the only well levelled chara in my account <33 so uhh theres more mutual pining bc they both fell in love by accident :(

He was very clear about the relationship that the two of you would enter. You want companionship and he has a need that has to be fulfilled. It didn't matter that the reason why he asked you and you specifically was because he already knew that there could be nobody else. You are absolutely perfect for him in every way that matters - from the way you fit in his arms to the pretty way his name sounds on your lips.

Zayne did his best to keep things professional. He was sure to meet you on your terms, even if it felt like he was starving for your touch. He already felt awful about needing you as badly and as frequently as he does and asking to have you when he needs you feels like a line he just refuses to cross.

You on the other hand found yourself wanting to do just that. You had no idea if it was because of his nature as an incubus or if it was the slow growing of your feelings for him that made you want to see him again and again no matter how little time has passed. You wanted more than anything to be as detached as he was, not wanting to make things difficult.

It didn't matter though. You lay there catching your breath, watching as he dresses again after another night. Your eyes lightly dance over the way his suit slips over his strong arms, face barely flush as though the two of you had done nothing more than catch up over a cup of coffee. He doesn't say much - he's never been one to talk too much in your presence regardless - but when he looks at you you feel your heart stop.

You don't even realise that you're reaching out to him until you feel his lips press against your fingertips. Your eyes are wide, unsure what the gesture itself meant. You didn't want to get your hopes up of course, but when he presses his lips against your forehead in a show of affection before leaving you allow yourself a moment of limerence.

Xavier has a tendency to forget that he has other needs until he sees you've texted him or a photo of you that pops up on his phone as a reminder that besides the friendship you two have, there's another level to your agreements.

He found himself always being gentler with you than you might want him to be. It didn't matter how you'd ask him or if you tried to convince him that you can handle it - a part of him was terrified that he'd lose you if he misjudged your passions and worked you too hard.

You sigh breathlessly as he presses another kiss to your throat, feeling the weight of his body as he presses himself closer in the throes of pleasure. He feels amazing as always and the rush of energy he gets from your pleasure is already something addictive. He knows he can't be without you now that he's had you and he known that for quite a while.

He turns back around partway through getting dressed, thinking you were trying to tell him something. You've always been sluggish after have sex, playfully teasing him and blaming him for sapping too much of your energy. He watches carefully to see if you'll say anything else, softening even more when you reach out for him.

You know that you need him here with you right now, fully aware this whole time that you loved him more than you are ever allowed to. That didn't seem like something you could ever entertain but here in your pleasure addled fatigue all you could think about was the need to feel your arms around him as he held you to sleep.

The bed felt warmer in the morning and you're absolutely certain you weren't wearing these clothes last night. You're not sure if you're just imagining the smell of his cologne in your sheets but you bury yourself in them regardless, quickly falling back asleep with dreams of him.

Rafayel was fun - that's how you saw it. The two of you practically fell into bed once you came to an agreement of terms and your relationship made it easy for you to trust him. He made you feel good and perhaps it was just in his nature but he was just always so romantic. He's an artist so perhaps that was just your imagination but his absolutely needy nature for your attention always spilled into bed.

You can barely breathe when he's got his lips on yours again, stealing your breath despite not needing it. You willingly give it to him as you always will, knowing that the way you held him was not just to ground yourself but borne out of a visceral need that eclipsed whatever kinds he has. He holds you just as tightly, reassuring words whispered into your ear.

You couldn't help but fall in love with him. You adored him more than you could ever fathom, staring up into the glass panes of his ceiling as you willed yourself to get up and get dressed. He was already up and about, well energised from your efforts and you tried your best to will back the fear of being nothing more than an agreement for him.

He sees your hesitation and you can hear him pause at the head of the bed, raising his brow as you turn to face him. You're not sure what he sees when he looks at you, unaware that he would be pleased to do nothing more than admire you until the day he died. The two of you don't notice how much time passes, scarcely moving a muscle until he reaches out and cups your cheek affectionately.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #l&ds

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flowerandblood · 4 months

Text

The Sin & The Penance

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, revenge motive, description of physical and mental disabilities, remorse, depression, hysteria attacks, swearing, trauma, suicidal thoughts ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That night he could not sleep – he wriggled in bed, checking from time to time whether she had perhaps called him back or written anything. Although he had tried to reach her at least ten times she did not answer and he was afraid to write her a message.

What if she went to the police with this?

Maybe that's what he deserved, he thought after a while with regret, staring blankly at the bright screen of his phone, wondering if he should try again despite the late hour.

As much as he tried to find some logical justification for what he had done, he couldn't explain what had really driven him.

Admittedly, at first he was guided only by anger and spite, but then these emotions disappeared, replaced by a hot, dark desire that filled his loins, completely overshadowing his cool judgement.

Something about her brightness, her lightness, her joy, made him long to lean over her like the dark sky, like night over the stars, and cover her with his blackness, his emptiness, consuming and devouring her.

He had never experienced such a disturbing and overpowering sensation before and was horrified that he was prone to such thoughts and such actions.

He had completely lost his mind because of her.

She had asked him to let her go, so why didn't he do so?

Alys had always been eager for his aggressive, violent games, he knew that, and he felt no remorse about what he was doing to her or where, but this little girl was terrified, trembling all over with fear, and yet all he could think about was how desperately he needed to feel her.

Perhaps subconsciously her cheerfulness, her attitude attracted him.

Maybe after years of sadness and mourning he wanted to feel at last something more than grief.

He covered his eyes with his hand, sighing heavily at that thought, feeling a squeeze in his throat and heart.

He only fell into a restless sleep in the morning with his phone lying next to his face, and was awakened two hours later by his alarm clock anyway, which he switched off with displeasure, tired, sad and embarrassed by what he had done.

He couldn't look Daeron in the face as they ate breakfast together. His little brother looked up at him from over his bowl of his favourite cereal with milk – he knew he was about to start asking questions about her.

"When will Esmeralda come here to sew our costumes?" He asked finally, stirring the milk with his spoon, looking at the chocolate balls that floated on its surface.

He pressed his lips together, not knowing how to explain to him how much he had fucked up.

What he had done to her.

"I don't know if she'll even show up here again." He replied truthfully, Daeron gave him a quick, horrified look.

"She promised me. She promised me we'd sew them together and go to the ball." He muttered, his eyes filling with tears again.

He decided he wouldn't be so cruel as to let him believe it was her fault, though part of his mind opted for that.

"I know, but I hurt her and I'm afraid she won't forgive me." He said lowly, swallowing hard, fiddling with his coffee cup, not daring to look at him, his heart pounding like mad.

"What do you mean? Did you hit her?" He asked in disbelief, and he clenched his eyes, realising that in his childish mind the greatest harm a man could do to a woman was that he could slap her.

He was silent for a while, not sure how or if I should explain it to him, whether it would be too much.

"In a way. And I did something else, much worse. Against her pleas. I could go to jail for that." He muttered, covering his face with his hand, feeling that even though he hadn't eaten anything he felt sick to his stomach.

"Why did you do that? She's so kind. What did she do to you? Did you get angry with her because of me?" He mumbled through his tears. He felt a tightening in his throat at the thought that, like any child, he was trying to justify the adult in his head, deciding that after all he was smarter and more experienced than him, so his behaviour must have been because he, his little brother, had done something wrong.

"No. No, it didn't and doesn't have anything to do with you. This is our adult business, but she has the right to be very angry with me and not speak to me. However, I'm completely sure she doesn't blame you." He replied quickly, biting his lower lip.

It wasn't until he spoke it aloud that it occurred to him how pathetic, inappropriate and cruel what he had done was, how afraid she must have been of him.

Was she telling herself she liked it so she could somehow survive it? She decided to go along with it so she wouldn't suffer?

"Do you think I can call her?" He asked in a quivering voice, and he looked at him with his heart pounding fast, recognising in the back of his mind that it was an excellent thought, that she might want to at least talk to him.

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll give you her number, but call her from your phone. She's not answering from me."

He stared feeling the cold sweat on his back at his brother's reflection in the mirror driving towards the centre, seeing as he pressed the numbers written on the piece of paper on the keypad of his phone and lifted it to his ear – he heard the quiet beep of a call waiting.

He shuddered as someone answered, trying to focus on the road, complete panic in his mind.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Hello? Hi, it's Daeron. Can you talk? No, he can't hear what you're saying, we're just driving to the centre." He muttered, and he swallowed loudly, feeling a constriction in his chest from which he found it hard to breathe, trying to erase from his mind the image of him slamming into her again and again with the brutal, sharp thrusts of his hips.

"He told me that he had done you wrong and that he had hurt you very badly. I'm very sorry he did that. I just wanted to ask when we're going to sew our costumes." He mumbled out quickly. He felt his eyebrows arch in shame and covered his mouth with his free hand, resting his elbow against his car door, looking ahead in disbelief.

How could he do this to her?

For a moment Daeron listened to what she was saying on the phone with concentration and he was dying inside, afraid that she would explain to him with details of what he had done to her. After a moment he nodded as if he understood what she meant, he saw his face lighten a little.

"Okay. Okay, I'll ask my brother if he agrees to it. Bye bye." He said softly and hung up, sighing heavily.

"And?" He asked looking at him in the mirror, stopping in the car park, feeling like he was about to go crazy. His brother looked down at his fingers.

"Esmeralda said that after your argument she can no longer come to our house, but that I can come to her at the University. She said that the building is modern and wheelchair accessible, there are special toilets, lifts and everything needed. We could do my homework in her room in the dormitory and then walk around the campus, sewing and painting." He said uncertainly, glancing at him pleadingly. He swallowed loudly, feeling disappointed and at the same time understanding of her decision and grunted softly, turning off the engine.

"Would you like that?" He asked him calmly, and his brother nodded quickly.

"Then so be it."

Despite his requests, Daeron refused to tell him which of the boys had called him Quasimodo.

He said that it didn't matter now.

He thought with regret that his younger brother had more maturity and calmness in himself than he did.

Sitting at work he was all nerves, he had not received any notification that anyone had filed a police report on him, so for some reason, perhaps out of fear, she had not done so.

He felt both relieved and ashamed at the same time, unable to look at himself, thinking that he was not only disgusting on the outside but also on the inside.

When Alys suggested that they go to the toilet for a while he simply agreed, feeling that he needed to lash out, to expel the grief, shame and desperation that seemed to fill his whole body.

He turned her body violently with her back to him, thinking with fatigue that he didn't want to look at her face. As he unzipped his trousers he tried to focus on what he saw in front of him, on her panties lowered halfway down her thighs, her entrance sticky with arousal. He closed his eyes and grasped his cock firmly in his hand, giving it a few aggressive, hard strokes.

As much as he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about her sweet moans, about how wonderful she smelled, about how tight she was, about her body convulsing in his embrace.

He got instantly hard, wasted no time and surprised his lover, who moaned with delight at feeling how direct and exceptionally violent he was this day, his thrusts full of desperation and aggression, his groans low and throaty.

Something was wrong – her insides were different, her buttocks were different, her scent was different, too intense, her moans too deep, too sensual, not as innocent and surprised as hers.

He pressed his lips together feeling he couldn't focus or get as much pleasure out of it as he would have liked.

"− shut the fuck up −" He growled speeding up but it was to no avail – when he opened his eyes he saw a completely different woman in front of him. He slowed down, swallowing loudly, feeling that nothing would come of it.

"− fucking bastard − ah, don't stop − what happened? − did I do something wrong? −" She asked as he slid out of her and fastened his zipper in a quick motion, furious, disappointed, humiliated, distraught that he wanted her, this little girl, her moans, her scent, her touch, her gaze, her tight, weeping cunt, being able to spend whole nights with his face sunk between her thighs, begging her forgiveness, muttering between the flicks of his tongue that he would make it all up to her.

"− no − I'm sorry, it's my fault −" He said lowly, not wanting to lash out at her. She grunted quietly, surprised, putting her lacy underwear and trousers back on over her hips, fastening them with a quick, nimble movement.

"− you seem stressed − something wrong? − do you want to talk? −" She asked softly, and he felt a kind of gratitude that she hadn't laughed at him or judged him, that she had acted as if nothing had happened.

He decided, however, that he didn't want to share his thoughts with her.

"− no − forgive me − have a nice day −" He said calmly, opening the cubicle door and left the restroom, moving down the corridor in front of him, clenching his eyelids, brushing his short, slicked-back hair with a quick movement.

What had happened between them, what he had done to her had left a mark on more than just her.

He felt as if he had woken up from a lethargy after five years, everything around him was sharper and brighter, painfully clear.

The next morning, according to the arrangements made between her and Daeron, he was to turn up in the car park outside the University from where she was to pick up his brother.

He dreaded this meeting, dreaded what he would see in her face, disgust, regret and bitterness, all the way to the place he felt like stopping and throwing up.

He felt a shudder and a loud pounding of his heart when they arrived at the agreed spot and he noticed her, standing between the cars dressed in a fitted strapless dress with daisies on it, her beautiful hair the scent of which he could still smell in his nostrils loose, trainers on her feet.

He stopped, swallowing hard, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out, glancing at her – she stood at a safe distance from them and looked away, playing with the fingers of her hands, thoughtful and sad.

What he saw hurt him even more than if she had been staring at him with hatred.

He walked around the car and took out Daeron's wheelchair to which he helped him move from the back seat – his little brother beamed at the sight of her and began to move the wheels himself heading towards her. He saw with regret that she smiled warmly when she saw him, genuine joy on her face.

"Hi. High five!" She said to him cockily and their hands hit each other in the air, even though he was standing a few steps away she didn't give him a single glance.

"So, shall we go?" She asked encouragingly, and Daeron nodded.

He wanted to ask if she was sure he would be safe here, if she would remember to take him to lunch, if she would watch out for him, but he didn't dare, shame took his speech away.

He decided it would be better if he kept quiet and led them away with his gaze, then got into his car and drove to work.

He spent all day thinking about her, sitting over the case files recalling again and again her appearance, her pleasant figure, her warm face that beamed all over at the sight of his younger brother.

Why did she have to be like this?

Why did she have to be what he craved, the personification of his deepest, darkest needs, a ripe peach that someone had placed in front of him on a platter while he was starving?

When he arrived after work to pick up Daeron they both stood in the distance, said their goodbyes, and she turned away without even bestowing a single glance on him. He got out of the car, intent on helping his brother into the back seat.

"And how was it?" He asked lowly, feeling sadness and emptiness, anxiety and a strange tightening in his stomach.

"Great! We studied together in her room and then she showed me around the whole campus. We even looked in the classroom where the students were painting portraits and she told me a bit about how it was done. Everyone was very friendly." He said quickly, clearly excited and pleased. He swallowed hard, sighing softly as he folded his wheelchair and threw it back into the boot.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asked calmly, returning to the driver's seat, buckling his seatbelt and turning on the engine.

"Yes, we had lunch in the university canteen. I could choose whatever I wanted." He said with satisfaction, a wide smile on his face.

He felt like asking him if she had mentioned anything about him, if she had anything to convey to him, but realised that there was nothing she might want to tell him.

She was doing this to keep her word to Daeron.

For a few weeks it seemed to him that he had locked himself in some kind of circle, looking forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays, days during which he would see her, albeit only from a distance, her figure bright and graceful.

He wondered with pain if she still had the bruises on her neck that his lips had left and swallowed loudly, feeling ashamed that his manhood reacted to that thought with a strong throbbing in his trousers.

He had suspected it before, but now he was absolutely sure.

He was fucking mad.

On the day the carnival ball was to be held, he was supposed to drive Daeron to the centre and pick him up after a few hours, but he decided that it wouldn't be worth going home for such a short time and he would just wait for them somewhere off to the side without bothering them.

As he pulled up in front of the building he swallowed heavily, seeing her from a distance, already dressed in her Esmeralda costume, her dark, loose hair tied with a violet scarf to form a headband, bells tied to her purple skirt, simple black ballerinas on her feet, round gold earrings in her ears, clanking bracelets on her wrists.

However, what drew his attention most was her white, buff long-sleeved shirt, tucked into the the sea-colored corset under her breasts that wonderfully emphasized her waist, it's sleeves lowered so that her shoulders were bare, it was slit down in the middle, showing the bare skin of her chest.

He swallowed loudly, looking away, feeling with horror that the very sight of it made him hard.

He grunted, helping Daeron out of the car and moved behind him, guessing that she wasn't going to help his brother dress after all, not wanting to invade his privacy.

"You really look like Esmeralda! So beautiful!" Exclaimed his younger brother, and she turned gracefully raising her hands with a clink of her bells and bracelets, showing off her costume in all its glory.

He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Where's my costume?!" He asked excitedly, and she picked up the large paper bag that stood next to her feet and smiled.

"Here. Let's go." She said lightly without looking at him, Daeron immediately pushed the wheels of his wheelchair and headed after her.

He moved behind them, feeling like an intruder, looking everywhere but at her, trying not to think about the sight of her partially exposed back.

She explained to him quickly what needed to be put on first and how – he was impressed that what she had made really did look like golden armour, but when he took out the individual pieces they turned out to be surprisingly light.

He locked himself and Daeron in one of the toilet cubicles, helping him to change, his brother looking extremely pleased.

"Are you two reconciled?" He asked, clearly thinking that since she was speaking to him again she had forgiven him. He swallowed loudly, not knowing how to explain to him that what he had done could not simply be taken back.

"I don't think so. But don't think about it. Hm?" He asked softly and he lowered his gaze, disappointed.

The sight of himself in the armour gave him confidence – it appeared that the whole thing had been designed so that he could flex his arms, elbows and wrists, the parts fitted together.

He thought with a pained grin that she had really made an effort.

"You look great. What a real knight you are. Come, it's time for you to dance a little with your beautiful Esmeralda." He said calmly, opening the door for him. He wheeled out into the corridor with a smile, his Esmeralda catching her cheeks with a wide smile of delight.

"My knight. Promise to protect me from the evil thugs!" She called out theatrically and glared at him – he swallowed loudly, turning his face away in shame, his younger brother assuring her that he would not let anyone hurt her.

Too late, he thought.

For some reason, he felt tears under his eyelids, his throat squeezed so tight he had trouble breathing.

He watched as they moved ahead into a large gymnasium where the lights were slightly dim, a disco ball was spinning on the ceiling, Girls Just Want To Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper was playing in the background, children and their caretakers spinning around, dressed as various characters and creatures.

Although many of the costumes looked quite impressive, he couldn't take his eyes off her – as she danced she sang the lyrics of the song with theatrical devotion as if she knew them by heart, her hair, bracelets and earrings glistened in the light of the multi-coloured lights, the sweat on the bare skin of her exposed arms glittered like little crystals.

He looked at her leaning with his back against the wall with his hands folded in front of him, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen, covering up what was happening in his trousers.

He looked around the room and noticed a group of boys looking at her and Daeron. He frowned, wondering if they were the ones calling his brother Quasimodo.

He felt some kind of satisfaction at the thought that they were watching his brother dance with a pretty girl.

He really deserved her.

Such a good kid.

He left after a while, pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket – even though he hadn't smoked in months and was trying to quit, he felt that what was happening was too much for him.

His hands trembled as he put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it with his lighter, taking a loud drag, closing his eyes, clenching his fingers on the base of his nose.

There was only chaos in his head.

"We need to talk." He heard her soft, trembling voice and turned around immediately, taking a few steps away, for some reason terrified by her sudden proximity.

He stared at her with his lips slightly parted, his body froze still, his heart pounding like mad, his cigarette burning slowly between his fingers.

God, she was pregnant.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I can no longer take care of Daeron. I just wanted to keep my promise and go to the ball with him. I think he's had enough disappointments in his life and I didn't want to provide him with any more." She said shivering all over, looking everywhere but at him – he felt like he was about to vomit from terror and grief.

What?

"But…if I'm the problem, we can arrange it so that I bring him in a while early and you pick him up from under the main entrance. I'll pay you more." He muttered, completely surprised by her words, not knowing what to say, not wanting to imagine how his little brother would react.

She shook her head quickly at his words, fiddling with the bracelets on her wrists in a nervous gesture.

"I can't. He reminds me of you. You two are similar in appearance." She mumbled and burst out crying, drawing in air loudly, covering her face with her hand in an attempt to calm herself. He looked at her in disbelief, feeling his voice get stuck in his throat.

"I haven't told anyone about what you did to me, because in his eyes you are his authority. I don't want to put him through unnecessary suffering, but I expect you to come up with something and find some convincing explanation as to why I can't continue to take care of him, Mr Prosecutor." She muttered regretfully wiping her cheeks swollen from tears, struggling to catch her breath, her plump lips parted, her eyebrows arched in despair.

He didn't know when he fell to his knees in front of her, when he clasped his hands around her waist, dropping his cigarette to the ground – he pressed his face to her womb, breathing loudly, feeling like he was going through some kind of panic, his lungs compressed, tears streaming down his face one after another, everything around him seemed to spin.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − please, please, forgive me −" He mumbled hysterically what he had wanted to say to her for weeks – he heard her gasp loudly in shock, raising her hands in a gesture of helplessness, felt her place them on his shoulders trying to gently push him away, her stomach trembled under his face in sobs.

"− l-let me go − please, get up −" She whimpered pleadingly, but he shook his head – he thought he couldn't do it, he couldn't let her go.

"− I need you − even if for the rest of my life I will only look at you from afar −" He exhaled helplessly, sinking his nose into the material of her soft skirt, feeling her wonderful scent fill his lungs again, the warmth of her body that enveloped his face.

He didn't care that the people around them were looking at them like they were crazy, didn't care that perhaps they knew who he was.

"− I can't − I've tried − I've forgiven you, but I can't forget − you robbed me of my dignity −" She said in a raspy, broken voice – he felt himself whooping with his own tears, clasping his fingers at her back, his helpless mumbling ripped from his throat as if without the participation of his free will.

"− do what you want with me − fucking destroy me −"

"Aemond? What's going on?" He heard his brother's frightened voice and immediately rose from his knees, letting her go, both of them wiping their faces quickly, her cheeks pale and at the same time red from tears.

"We needed to talk. I'll be right back." She said quickly, forcing herself to smile – Daeron could sense the tension between them though, his lips tightened, his gaze wandering from him to her.

"Have you…reconciled yet? Has my brother apologised to you?" He asked uncertainly and she nodded and laughed lightly, something in her response made him clench his eyelids and swallow loudly – he covered his face with his hand, feeling that for some reason he couldn't stop crying.

You robbed me of my dignity.

"− y-yes − yes, we've already explained everything to each other, we simply got a little emotional − come on, let's go back inside −" She said softly and stroked his head – he smiled at her and glanced over his shoulder.

"Are you coming?" He asked, but he shook his head, choking out that he would wait for them in the car.

He locked himself inside in the driver's seat and put his forehead on the steering wheel, feeling an overpowering emptiness and this awful, terrifying chill, as if someone had gouged out his insides with a spoon like the flesh of a fruit, leaving only a mere shell.

He thought that he had died five years ago, on the day of that accident.

He only existed so that Daeron could live on.

He shuddered, as if awakened from a deep, restless slumber, hearing a knock on the window on his side – he glanced there and saw Daeron waving at him and his Esmeralda, looking at him uncertainly, terrified of his condition, dark night all around them.

He got out of the car, massaging his forehead, feeling a terrible headache, not being sure for a moment where he actually was or what time it was – in an automatic reflex he opened the back door and helped Daeron get in, he could smell her scent beside him, her gaze fixed on him.

"Are you sure you should drive?" She asked hesitantly, and he swallowed loudly, thinking that since the day of that accident he had never gotten into a car that someone else was driving.

"Yes. Shall I drive you back?" He asked lowly, not looking at her, folding Daeron's small wheelchair.

"No need, thank you, I'll get an Uber." She muttered, his younger brother furrowed his brow, looking at her worriedly.

"We'll drive you back. It's late, you shouldn't be going home alone." He insisted.

She sighed quietly and nodded, walking around the car, sitting down next to Daeron in the back seat.

He got behind the wheel and started the engine, involuntarily glancing at her in the mirror – their gazes met, her eyes sad and tired, full of a regret she had every right to feel.

He drove ahead, trying to wake up and focus on the road, looking at the lights of the cars passing him and thought that maybe if he had killed them it would have been better for all of them.

He grunted loudly, tilting his head back, leaning against the backrest, recognising that he had completely lost his mind, that he was sinking into depression and hysteria, that he had reached the very bottom.

It seemed to him that she sensed that something was happening to him – he was catching her on the fact that she was glancing at him uncertainly, answering something to Daeron who was chatting her up, talking about his friends' costumes. She was just nodding, pretending to listen to him, her hands playing with the material of her skirt in a nervous gesture.

God, how he longed for her to drive with him to their house, to go with him to his bedroom, so that he could kneel before her and whisper how sorry he was, how he wished he could make it all right, to slide with his hands the material of her shirt and her skirt, so that his lips could kiss her whole beautiful, warm body with devotion and adoration, her feet, her calves, her thighs, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her face, her….

"WATCH OUT!" He heard her scream of terror and pressed the brake suddenly, at the last moment stopping in front of a crossroads where he should have given way to those driving on his right and left – a man almost rammed into them and started honking at them, gesticulating aggressively, opening his window and shouting, asking what the fuck he was doing.

He looked quickly in the mirror, feeling as if he was deaf, his brother was crying loudly, snuggled into her, shaking with fear, her eyes wide, staring at him in horror.

"… are you all right?" He asked dully, feeling like his head was spinning – he saw her nod quickly, and then suddenly he went dark in front of his eyes, his head dropped limply and hit something hard.

He was awakened by someone's conversation. He felt someone touching him, something pleasantly warm enveloped him – his body was lying on something soft and comfortable, he thought he was lying on the sofa in his house.

"− overwork, dehydration, stress, trauma − anything could have caused this, ma'am − when can his sister come? −" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"− his younger brother called her, but she only managed to buy a plane ticket for tomorrow −" He heard her soft, warm voice – he shuddered and opened his eyes with difficulty, wanting to see her, to make sure nothing had happened to her.

He spotted her blurred silhouette in the warm light of the night lamp – she was sitting next to him on the sofa in his living room, still dressed in her Esmeralda costume.

"− can you stay here until she arrives? − are you a friend of the family? −" Asked the man who was apparently a paramedic, packing his suitcase and pulling off his latex gloves. She nodded.

"− y-yes − yes, I'm his little brother's carer −" She replied calmly, the man and she both glanced at him when they noticed he was awake.

"− how are you feeling, sir? − you had a panic attack and fainted − I have given you intravenous sedatives and strengthening medications, you should feel better soon −" The man with the black beard, surely a few years older than him, said to him.

He grunted quietly as he tried to raise himself up on his elbows, feeling everything around him swirl and lay back, giving up.

"− fuck − I'm dizzy −" He muttered, his stomach sore and clenched.

She rose from her seat as the doctors left Daeron's room, sighing heavily in relief when the woman explained that he had only been scared.

"Aemond!" He shouted when he saw that he was awake, riding up to him in his wheelchair, wiping his face red from tears.

"− I thought − I thought you had died − you weren't moving − w-we couldn't wake you up −" He mumbled, and he hugged his head to his chest, closing his eyes, stroking his soft hair with his large hand.

"− I'm sorry − I'm so sorry − I've been working too much lately and I fainted −" He lied, swallowing loudly, his brother nodding his head in understanding, cuddling into him like a teddy bear. He kissed his temple, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

He thought he needed to pull himself together.

"− Esmeralda said she would stay with us until Helaena arrives − now it's up to us to take care of you − lie here and don't worry about a thing −" He said in a voice hoarse from crying and patted his head – he felt a tightness in his throat at his words, his eyebrows arched in emotion, he smiled involuntarily, feeling his lower lip tremble.

"− then I'm in good hands −"

He watched wordlessly as the doctors and medics left their house, Daeron showing his Esmeralda where she could find clothes to change into – she appeared a few minutes later in his long black hoodie reaching halfway down her thighs, her legs wonderfully bare.

She bustled around the kitchen with Daeron, trying to make dinner – he couldn't get out of his awe at what a harmonious duo they were, his brother talking to her without shame or embarrassment.

If he had been wiser, if he had given her a chance then instead of humiliating her, maybe now they would be preparing dinner together.

He rose to sit down when she brought him tea and sandwiches, thanking her meekly. He sighed heavily feeling he wouldn't swallow anything and although the medications were starting to work, he felt like his head was going to burst.

She only returned to the living room after she had helped Daeron change into his pyjamas and put him to bed. She approached him hesitantly and sat down next to him on the couch, not looking at him but at the floor.

"How are you feeling?" She asked quietly, covering her knees with the material of his sweatshirt.

He looked at her, silent for a long moment.

"Exactly as I should after what I did." He replied finally, not knowing how else he was supposed to call what he was feeling.

She looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed in pain, regret and sadness in her gaze, but at the same time also some kind of concern.

He thought in disbelief that his fate mattered to her despite what he had done to her.

She lowered her gaze to her knees, fiddling with the material that covered her thighs in a nervous gesture.

"He needs you composed. Emotionally stable." She said sadly, her lips trembling.

He stared at her face unable to take his eyes off her, thinking only of how much he wanted to touch her, dreaming of her hugging him and locking him in her arms.

"I know." He said dryly, understanding exactly what she meant.

He couldn't be unpredictable, distracted while driving in the car, at work and on a daily basis.

Could not be distracted by her.

"Why did you do it? Then when I wanted to leave?" She finally asked in a voice quivering with grief, and looked at him, the depth of disappointment, sadness and emptiness in her bright eyes.

He licked his lower lip dry with stress and swallowed hard, feeling his heart pounding like mad as he stared straight into her face.

"Because I wanted to feel you. You were so sweet and soft. You were melting in my hands. I couldn't stop." He muttered at last, feeling with shame how pathetic that explanation was, thinking he was just a fucking pervert.

He drew in a loud breath as she slid the blanket off him and sat on top of him, pressing her buttocks against what was under his trousers – he wanted to grab her hips, feeling a rush of adrenaline from disbelief, but she grabbed his wrists.

"No. Don't touch me. If I feel your hands on my body I'll start screaming. I will tell Daeron everything you did to me and that you tried to do it a second time." She said with a seriousness from which his breath caught in his throat; he immediately placed his hands as before on either side of his body, watching in disbelief as her tiny fingers undid his button and zipper, his cock immediately swelled and began to pulsate, a loud shuddering sigh escaped his lips.

God, was she really going to do this?

As if in response to his thoughts, she spread the material of his trousers to the side and slid his boxers down, revealing his throbbing erection, twitching with lust, the head of it pink and glistening. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, swallowing loudly when he felt her grab it's base with a gentle flick of her hand and direct its thick tip between her warm thighs.

She had no underwear underneath.

She lowered herself onto him a tiny bit, barely sinking the fat head of his cock inside her, teasing him with the lewd click of her moisture – the sight of him stretching her slit and how wet she was turned him on so much that a low, helpless groan escaped his throat.

"− be quiet or I'll stop − do you want me to stop? − you didn't give me that choice, but I'm not that cruel −" She said with regret as he shook his head quickly, feeling how desperate he was to feel her again.

"− please −" He heard his own pathetic voice, not believing he was allowing it, but he no longer cared what she would do to him, he wanted to fuck her in any way she would let him.

He felt some relief at the thought of being humiliated, he wanted her to do to him what he did to her even though he knew she didn't have his awful nature.

"− what are you asking me to do? −" She whispered softly, almost tenderly, as if her superiority over him was giving her back what he had taken from her, her power over her own body, over what was happening to her.

"− use me −" He breathed out in a voice hoarse with emotion, saw that something had changed in her gaze, her lips parted in a shuddering breath.

He clasped his hands on the fabric of the couch and leaned his head back, gasping out loud as he felt her let him all the way inside her, his hard, fat cock throbbed aggressively with desire squeezed wonderfully by her hot, tight walls – he knew he was embarrassingly close to fulfilment and that she felt it too.

She put her hands on his shoulders, leaning over him, but not moving, waiting for his manhood to stop twitching inside her – her pretty, flushed face surrounded by her dark, shiny curls, her bright eyes fixed on him, her plump, swollen lips parted in a quickened breath.

"− use you? − mr. prosecutor wants to make me feel good? −" She asked in a whisper, her voice trembling with fear and arousal, as if she herself was shocked by what she was doing and by the fact that he was listening to her, by the way he was responding to her, by how much he desired her.

"− yes −" He mumbled out and closed his eyes with a low moan, feeling that with flick of her hips she slowly slid his cock out of her only to push it back in with a loud click of her wetness.

"− why? −" She exhaled, moving on top of him painfully slowly, her tight fleshy muscles giving him a wonderful squeeze each time she forced him back between her plushy folds, they both began to breathe louder and louder. He bent his legs at the knees, involuntarily tentatively responding to her thrusts with deep stabs of his hips.

"− God, don't you see that I crave you? −" He groaned low, with the last of his strong will restraining himself from tightening his hands on her buttocks and forcing her to move faster.

There was something wonderful about this slow agony, in the way she teased him, rubbing herself at the spot from which she felt the greatest pleasure, a sweet moan escaped her lips at his words.

"− are you always like this when you see me? − like you are now between my thighs? −" She mumbled in embarrassment, speeding up, their naked bodies began to slam against each other with splats of her moisture – he dared to buck into her harder, they both began to pant loudly, looking at each other with their mouths wide open, her lips puffy with desire.

"− of course − I jerk off every day thinking about you − fuck −" He muttered with difficulty, feeling the tickle and heat in his lower abdomen, his cock swelling with desire so much that he felt like it was about to explode if he didn't come inside her, their naked bodies slamming against each other.

He delighted in the sight of her throwing her head back at his words, her hot core pulsed hard around him, sucking him inside, her fingers clenched on the material of his sweatshirt, her buttocks slapping loudly against his thighs, soaking him all over.

"− touch me − touch me −" She cried out and he caught her quickly, one of his hands weaved into her hair and pressed her face against his, their lips joined in an aggressive, thirsty, sticky kiss, the fingers of his other hand clenched on the soft, firm skin of her ass.

They moaned loudly into each other's mouths as he began to pound into her like mad, almost not sliding out of her anymore – he embraced her and hugged her body to his, gripping her around the waist, her hands stroking his cheeks, his neck, his scar, his cock thrusting into her weeping folds twitching and throbbing like crazy.

"− fuck − fuck, baby, m gonna cum −" He babbled between the flicks of their lips, tongues and teeth. She gasped and came at his words with a loud mewl of surprise – he felt her moisture run down her thighs onto his lower abdomen, her muscles began to clench on him greedily, squeezing him wonderfully. He threw his head back and moaned in relief when he felt his warm seed spurt out inside her.

"− oh God − oh my fucking God −" He mumbled, experiencing such an intense orgasm for the first time in his life – for a moment he went dark before his eyes, he could see or hear nothing, there was only the wonderful hot pleasure spilling over his whole body, his hands clenched on her hot skin.

He hugged her close, snuggling her face into the hollow of his neck, covering their bodies with his blanket, not wanting Daeron to accidentally find them in this position, while having no intention of changing it.

He felt wonderful.

He stroked her soft hair placing tender, wet kisses on her temple, his other hand trailing reassuringly down her back, feeling that she was trembling all over with emotion, unsure as he was of what had really happened between them.

"− sleep here, little one − I won't touch you against your will − I promise −" He whispered, but her silence answered him – she breathed loudly along with him, lying still, his half-soft manhood still throbbing deep inside her.

"− I know −" She replied quietly after a moment, rising on her shoulders, sliding him out of her with a soft motion of her hips, his hands clasped helplessly on her thighs.

"− please, don't go −" He muttered, looking at her in horror, his heart pounding like mad.

Please, let me go.

"− I'm sorry −"

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Please, let me go.

She rose from the couch, trembling all over, covering her thighs with his sweatshirt, his semen mingled with her moisture ran down her naked skin.

"− I'll sleep in the free room next to Daeron's bedroom − I'll lock myself in − don't come to me and don't ever touch me again − we're even −" She said in a calm, quivering voice full of sorrow, sadness and emptiness.

He wanted to touch her fingers but she turned and left the living room, hiding her face in her hand as if she was crying again, disappearing down the corridor.

He lay looking dully at the spot where she had stood just a moment before, feeling a squeeze in his throat – with trembling hands he slipped his boxers back on and zipped up his trousers, feeling tears of disappointment running down the sides of his face onto the pillow under his head.

We're even.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses

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thisismeracing · 10 months

Note

Congratulations on 1k <3

Mick + drunk + fluff

Drunk | MS47

⸺ the one where your favorite driver drunkenly confesses his love to you. ✓ mentions of alcohol and food.

⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (CLOSED) ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

Mick was usually a very composed guy. He was often the designated driver whenever their friends decided to party, and when he wasn't, he still wouldn't get hammered. That's why Yn was so confused when she opened her door only to find her friend and, at some point, a coworker barely standing in front of her house.

"Mick?" she asked, confusion written all over her face.

"Hi, Yn. Wie gehts?" he slurred, starting to use his native language, and Yn frowned even deeper.

"I'm ok, I guess. You...not so much eh?"

She took a step back and motioned for him to get in, which he did stumbling inside and leaving his shoes at the entrance.

"How'd you get here?"

"So many questions," he mumbled jokingly rolling his eyes, or trying to because he was so drunk Yn swore that wasn't a proper eye roll. "I ubered here, or someone did... I dunno."

Yn took a deep breath and went to her kitchen to get the kettle ready. He would need the strongest cup of coffee and the coldest bath, and she would give it to him because if the roles were reversed Mick would sure take care of her, no questions asked.

"Wait, don't leave me alone, Yn." He stepped into the kitchen behind her and almost fell trying to sit on one of her stools.

"I had no idea you were this needy when drunk," Yn joked and Mick didn't answer. His hands were on the marble counter and he was watching with lazy eyes her every move.

They met when Mick started in F1. Yn worked with Mercedes and was close friends with Esteban, so it wasn't a surprise when they hit it off from the start. Once Mick went to Mercedes, they became even closer, and what used to be platonic, started having its own space in Yn's heart. She was in love with Mick.

What she didn't know at the time was that Mick was in love with her too.

"I had to talk to you."

"And it couldn't wait until you were sober?" she quipped.

"No, I'm terrified I'm-" Yn's coffee machine started its crazy noise swallowing what Mick was about to confess.

He directed his blue eyes to his palm, and he could almost hear a small and sober part of himself screaming that this was not a good idea, that she probably wouldn't be into him that way.

"Let's go, you're getting into the shower. I think I have a sweatpant that's going to fit you just right," she clicked something on the machine and started walking to the corridor.

Mick followed her in his drunk haze, just like he would follow her sober. Lance even joked once about how he looked like a found lost puppy while trailing behind Yn in the paddock.

"Can you hold yourself? Shower without falling in my bathroom or destroying it?"

"Of course!" His offended face made Yn chuckle.

When she reached the door, ready to leave him be, Mick's muffled voice called for her.

"I can shower, but I think I'll need some help with this shirt..." and sure enough Yn turned around to see Mick's torso on display while his head was stuck on his shirt.

Yn's laughter boomed around the walls of the bathroom, and she could almost hear Mick doing the same and being interrupted by a hiccup. She reached for the shirt and detangled him before quickly turning around and leaving, trying to ignore how intimate it felt to take care of him in such a vulnerable state.

While Mick showered to sober up, Yn got him coffee, some crackers, and hungover pills for he would definitely wake up with his head pounding the next morning.

When she walked into the room, he was sitting at the edge of the bed, a towel on his broad shoulders and some droplets of water running from his back to his waist, stopping at the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing.

"Gotcha some food and coffee to help you sober up, are you feeling any better?" Yn asked, settling the tray on her nightstand.

"I love you," he whispered, and she was thankful her hands were free because otherwise, she would have dropped everything on her bedroom floor.

And, of course, part of her tried to tell her that it was the kind of 'I love you' you tell your best friend, but the second their eyes met Yn knew exactly what kind of confession that was.

"You're drunk, Mick..."

"I'm in love with you, Yn." He started again. "I have been since my first year in the grid, and I'm sorry I'm saying it like this, but-" he hiccups interrupting his own rambling, and then they're both laughing.

There's some kind of relief in finally sharing the truth, letting it free to go around.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, ok?"

"But...do you love me back? You don't even have to love me, you can just like me, do you like me back? I- I've never done this before, how does one ask if the other is in love too, but without sounding like a fool? Or is it just because I'm still a bit drunk?"

Yn giggled, rolling her eyes and carding her fingers to his blonde mop of hair that was still damp from the cold shower. She dipped down and kissed his forehead, and Mick closed his eyes enjoying the caress of her lips on his skin.

"I'm in love with you too, your dork."

"Can you kiss me?"

"We're not having our first kiss with you drunk," she shook her head.

"Oh- Scheiße!- that's actually true! Mhm but wait," Mick holds his pointer finger up as if he's about to state something, and Yn takes a step back to watch him attentively. "I just crashed your cozy Friday night at home- do you still love me? After taking care of me drunk? After I put you through all this trouble?"

Yn rolled her eyes, kissed the tip of his nose, and added, "Yes, Mick Schumacher, I still love you."

"Even after I accidentally dropped and spilled half of your shampoo on the bathroom floor?"

"Ye- Wait WHAT?"

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: That was a bit longer than I anticipated lol 1k words, but I hope you guys like it!! yay *forehead kiss* Don't forget to like and reblog this piece!

#ms47 #requests #op: blurbs #one word a thousand stories blurb night #mick schumacher imagines #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher imagine #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #millie writes

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scary-lasagna · 5 months

Note

Hello, I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if it was okay if to request LJ, Bloody Painter, and Hoodie (separately) with a siren reader? Reader, in her human form, is slightly stronger, durable, and faster. However, in their siren form (which happens when they get submerged underwater) they have the typical powers of a siren, but they also have limit consciousness. What I mean by that is that they are a lot more feral in this form, and doesn’t really recognize anyone in that form, but like, around their partners, they’d sort of feel familiar to them, so reader in their siren form won’t attack them or anything. Hope this makes sense!

In my AU sirens can also transform into bird-like creatures! They have power over the sea and the air :] I decided to implement that as well.

Laughing Jack

Jack, as you know, runs an old, worn-down circus.

There are no more acts of beasts, or rare animals from the human realm, but more so of a retirement place for the creatures.

He basically bought you off of the black market, watching the algae float around the the cramped tank they kept you in.

There was no way he'd be able to sleep at night, knowing he could prevent another lonely night for you.

You got a lovely spot next to Snowflake, his prized albino Tiger, which Jack thought was so funny, because of the cat and fish dynamic.

But after research and asking around after taking care of you for a month, he concluded to take you out of the water.

He enjoyed that month of bonding and feeding you, and even reading you stories whenever you seemed bored with any enrichment toys and food he gave you. He wondered if you would even remember him.

But you did, and you thanked him profusely for rescuing you, even if he had no idea how much it cost or energy it took to rehabilitate a siren-like yourself.

And Jack was always willing to learn whatever you told him, even bringing up stories from your culture about how the sea will reach toward the moon in an attempt to reach its lover that flew too high.

And it took am embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that Jack's feathers were fake, simply a silly decoration he enjoyed.

But over time, you two grew close, and now you have a rather large tank full of a small reef and a complete array of fish to keep you happy whenever you decide to dip your toes.

Helen

Oh, Helen is just head over heels for you.

He thinks you're the most beautiful muse he's ever come across, and every time you step foot in the water you two fall in love all over again.

You actually almost killed him the first time you met. Both of you thought you were alone, and quickly realized the presence of the other.

He managed to squeeze you into his painting of the sunset, but before leaving, he gathered seashells into the tide.

You almost bit his arm off, and ended up getting a face full of oil paint. It tasted lovely, as you can imagine, (it tasted like you gulped down an oil spill).

As while busy gagging and attempting to wash your mouth out, and drink the sea water, which would make even the best of sirens sea-sick, Helen took charge and dragged you out of the water to help you.

And you hit it off since, and many of his paints of you have gained quite the popularity.

Brian

Not gonna lie, he thinks you are pretty terrifying.

The first time you went to the beach, Brian expected something like Ariel, or even the mermaids from Pirates of the Caribbean.

He was not expecting your true form in the slightest.

Your jaw unhinged and ripped your cheeks clean in half to reveal not one, but multiple rows of sharp teeth.

And he's seen many things and creatures in his career as a proxy, but a siren had not been one of them. Slender had mentioned staying away from them, especially as humans, you can be lured whenever they decide to be bored of you, and then drag you to the sea floor.

Or maybe they'll grab you up in their talons leading to sculpted human legs and drop you in a vat of bubbling acid.

Whatever the case was, it seemed as if it went into one ear and out with other with Brian, because he fell in love.

But damn, in the water you were hella creepy. And of course, you thought it was a game to scare this familiar stranger shitless since he seemed so keen on staying around you.

He managed to lure you out from the water with a little jar of "siren-bait" from one of the seaside shops. It didn't work as expected, but you really just wanted to see if it contained any edible food.

But he liked pruning your wings and picking off the casing of new feathers whenever they came in, and if he wasn't feeling too tired, he would give you a small massage to your shoulders after holding up your wings for so long.

#helen otis x reader #helen #bloody painter #bloody painter x reader #creepypasta x reader #laughing jack #laughing jack x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta blog #hoodie x reader #brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #proxy x reader

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itsnotgray · 3 months

Text

should’ve seen it coming | cole caufield

what if grumpy x sunshine didn’t work out?

never saw myself writing for cole, but i asked @fantillisdaylight for a few players and i liked this …thing? more than i thought i would. so yeah, hope you guys enjoy!

what if sweet, ball of sunshine cole started going out with this grumpy, not so easily impressed girl.

and for a while, it’s perfect, just like all the movies- but then reality sets in.

their differences that they thought they could move past, were too big for the couple to overcome.

cole, who feels like he can’t be anything but sunshine. with her hardened demeanor, he’s terrified that if he gives in to how he really feels, she may not be able to console him.

and she, who feels so intimidated at the thought of letting cole into her head. she’s the complete opposite of sunshine- and the idea of letting cole into the storm cloud she calls her brain is frightening.

eventually, it all comes to a head after a bad game. he comes over to her apartment, hoping her presence can work its magic like usual. but it can’t. cole’s upset, he’s been upset, and he can’t be bothered to hide it anymore.

“cole i’m here to help you-“ she starts, before she’s cut off.

“are you really though? because you don’t seem like it. most people that want to console someone don’t stand there with that blank fucking look on their face,” he bites back, frustration bubbling off of him like steam off a boiling pot of tea.

and she recoils, because there it is. it always happens eventually. she can’t be as expressive as her partner wants her to, and they leave, frustrated that something as simple as a smile or enthusiasm is so hard to draw out from her.

“i’m trying cole, i swear i am. i want to help you, i mean it. let me be there for you,” she begs, trying to stop the outcome she can sense is looming on the horizon.

but he can’t. he’s frustrated, he wants to advertise his fears, his struggles, but that fear of his emotions being too much for her to cope with creeps up again. and so he shuts down, putting up walls he didn’t know he had.

“just- forget it. we’re done here,” he frustratedly lets out.

“what do you mean we’re done here cole? you’re clearly upset- let me be there for you,” she exasperatedly states, tears of frustration building at being stone walled by her normally joyful boyfriend.

“not just here. we’re done, period. i can’t do this anymore,” he says, headed to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, hoping that’ll cool the accumulated rage that’s been simmering inside of him for so long, silenced by his need to keep up happy-go-lucky appearances.

his hand grips the cup tightly, as he quietly mutters “i’ll sleep on the couch and be gone by the morning.”

“cole, i- why the hell are you- forget it. clearly i never meant jack shit to you if it’s that easy to call it quits,” she says, mostly to herself, storming off to her bedroom, only letting her tears fall once her back is turned to the boy, who’s walls are now crumbling as he sobs quietly in the kitchen.

but his walls, defense mechanisms he’s never really engaged before, make one final move at protecting his heart.

“fucking avoid it like you usually do. real fucking nice that our relationship is crumbling before our eyes and you can’t utter one fucking word that makes it seem like you’ve ever given a shit,” he practically yells into the darkness of her house, but despite the darkness, the words reach her ears.

there it is. the final nail in the coffin. at his rage-filled words, her back hits the door, hand coming up to muffle the cries building in her throat, emotions begging to come out and scream “i’m here, i promise! she may hide me, but im here!”

her hand is practiced in the action though, and her cries of despair never reach the air.

two lovers that in any perfect world could worked.

two lovers torn apart by a beast that king eurythesus should’ve forced hercules to face in his labors, for then the hero surely wouldn’t have been successful.

a beast by the name of miscommunication.

#cole caufield #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fics #hockey imagines #nhl #montreal canadiens imagine #gray writes #nhl fic #nhl hockey

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transparentbeardmentality · 1 year

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People on twitter finally figuring out what @dekacchannn has been saying forever:

Bakugo is connected to OFA.

Yah! He can see All Might's vestige! He has OFA stars in his eyes!!!

....

Now for my interpretation and speculation that I don't see anyone talking about...

Bakugo freaking KNEW he was tapping bits of OFA WAY before the battle. That's why he's not at all surprised to see the AM vestige, and just says "Oh. Right.."

It perfectly explains why at UA again, he is looking so uncomfortable, sweating bullets, explaining his new (saving Izuku unlocked) move to Izuku/Deku. He's not just sweating because that's his thing. He never just sweats in battle like that!

Sweating bullets gets used a lot to convey intense/awkward discomfort. I think he was panicked about breaching the topic of OFA power up! But Izuku totally blanked him... Bakugo didn't really wanna have this confusing conversation to start with (but I believe he was trying to broach it anyway). So when Izuku doesn't respond openly, he drops it immediately.

Like Deku, he withheld important information about how he unlocked it -and what it means- because their relationship feels like a fragile, intense mess. It's way too important for him to jeapordise.

Bakugo was very insecure and afraid here!

And I don't think Bakugo knows what to make of the OFA thing, or do about it. Izuku clearly has no idea, or he'd say something, right? He had an opening, and nothing?

He knows his feelings for Izuku are intense.. Everybody does. But the well goes deeper, or he wouldn't be afraid to talk about something so important, involving feelings he's already revealed.

I totally agree with theories that it's a love connection, not a reminant of a non-manga movie -even if some crossover characters appear. There's no way Horikoshi doesn't want his beloved manga to stand on its own.

And his beloved manga talks about people being in love, what's in their hearts, feeling like dying without their person, overwhelming emotions bending rules, and Deku's control your heart (over Bakugo) plotline.

I also wonder if the reason Bakugo reacted so strongly to Deku holding his hand out to Aoyama is because it was symbolic of Deku lending his strength (and compassion) to him. Bakugo may have worked out that his OFA connection works, because in some way, honorable Deku has had his hand extended to him -for as long as he can remember. Because that's what Deku does. Deku is a saint. And maybe OFA is an extension of that for him.

I think that OFA connection strengthened too, when Bakugo learned how DEEP that part of Deku went for him.

He cannot dismiss Deku's feelings as him being a bleeding heart over every person when Shigaraki is telling him that for Deku, he is 'The' person -and is bent on killing him because of it! That's shocking (also terrifying) information.

Remember Bakugo said he didn't expect the apology to change anything between them, but Shig knowing about 💚Bakugo💚 means he was unmistakeably Deku's closest person, before he even apologised!

Bakugo feels so much for Izuku, but thought he had to start mending things to even be considered a real friend... Especially since Deku has so many friends and close people! He just saw them all pour out their deep affections to bring him home to UA. He does not think he is special.

But Izuku has a secret! (At least from Bakugo, no one else could possibly be confused at this point.)

So Shigaraki taunts Bakugo for falling behind Deku. He's just a minnow. But all he can focus on is something to the effect of -'Holy shit. He loves me. He loves me.. I need him to know that I-.. I need to live up to him! Izuku...'

The secret feelings reveal made him brave and honest with his own heart. There's nothing left but longing to be worthy of him, and be with him. He makes his last stand for him. And in the end, he reaches out for Izuku too -even though Izuku is not there with his own hand this time.

And this is when we first see the AFO stars are in his eyes. He does reach him. Or at least their connection. And that's why we see All Might, and why Bakugo is not surprised. But Bakugo seems resigned as though it's too late. He's already reminiscing.. But I believe All Might is going tell him it's not over. That he has to save Young Midoriya, and how.

What else could he possibly be there to say?

I can't wait for Izuku to find about Kacchan being OFA love-bonded to him.

#bkdk #bakudeku #thoughts #speculation #ofa

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trans-queen-administrator · 9 months

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Taylor being paranoid about her passenger is such a fun character trait. Like none of her friends really seemed to give much of a shit when they learned about passengers from Bonesaw, but Taylor consistently notes the times her passenger acted without her consent, she tries to talk with it, communicate with it, just anything to learn what this thing that can control her without her say wants with her. One of my favorite little details is that during the timeskip this was the focus of a lot of her therapy sessions with Yamada, trying methods like hypnosis to communicate. I think part of it is that she's inherently just paranoid about the fact that this thing is helping her sometimes and she doesn't know why and she HAS to figure it out because no one would help out of the kindness of their heart, and another part is just that she can't bear to not be in control and this is something that threatens that in a very ominous way.

Another aspect of her paranoia towards her passenger is that she doesn't want to take blame for her own actions I think. During the Behemoth fight when her ally tried to shoot Phil Sē, she pulled the gun off target with silk and got him killed. She's the one who pulled the string, but because she's genuinely unsure if it was her being wary or her passenger setting up the string she settles on the second option because it absolves her of the possible blame or need to admit she's paranoid and ready to betray people in an instance. When Glenn shows her the video of her being the most terrifying fucker in existence she ignores how horrifying she is and fixated on how her passenger moved her, and then she doesn't have to think about the fact that she'd fit right into the ranks of the Slaughterhouse Nine because well, she can blame her passenger and focus on that instead. This applies to other people too, she sees Lung not using his power and thinks that maybe he's concerned about his passenger like she is. She projects hard onto Sophia in my opinion when she says that she got violent because of her passenger. If this person she doesn't like isn't to blame for everything she inflicted on Taylor, the surely Taylor can't be blamed for the violent steps she took to take over a city. It's another way she rationalizes everything to herself, if something is so bad that she can't justify it immediately there's always the excuse of "my passenger made me do it." But crucially, Taylor ends up being aware of the fact that she's doing this during Gold Morning.

And I think it's really good that this is something she grows and accepts about herself. It's wonderful growth for a character who's so often too stubborn to move herself forward. She's generally more in touch with her passenger during Gold Morning, like the time when she thinks that her and her passenger were in agreement in wanting to hurt Scion on the oil rig. No one else in Worm really seems to accept their passengers, Riley is questioning how much of herself has been subsumed by it, Eidolon is always annoyed it doesn't give what he wants, and most other people don't even know about them. But Taylor forms a bit of a symbiosis with hers after a long time rejecting it at every turn. I think this quote really sums up her feelings towards the end.

And by towards the end I mean like, at the very end, because immediately after this thought she becomes Khepri, and yet another fucking theme and character trait cumulates and reaches its peak with Speck. God damn what a good arc. The blur between Taylor and her passenger that she always feared is finally an actual thing consuming her, and she can finally communicate with her passenger as well. I do wonder what this is like on her passengers end. It's clearly down for the idea of killing its maker, and it's heavily implied that her passenger does care and doesn't want to actually leave Taylor as a husk (too lazy to get the quote because I've been typing for 45 minutes but Contessa remarks upon the administrator claiming everything about her until there's nothing left and she feels fear that she thinks is from both her and her passenger. 30.7 I think, near the end). But there's still so much about Taylor's passenger that's unknown. Was communication something it may have wanted when Taylor kept trying to communicate, but doing so required punching holes in the connection that would lead to more bleed through and functionally destroy its host? Did it slowly grow to care for Taylor more than the cycle, or was it always wanting to fight Scion? Did Taylor's autistic swag convince a multidimensional alien made of crystal to rebel? Is Queen Administrator trans? Idk how to end this post if it's not obvious, sorry.

#worm #parahumans #taylor hebert #skitter #weaver #khepri #queen administrator #ramble #sorry for the abrupt ending but uhhh enjoy the thoughts #travesty I haven't posted about this a lot yet considering my url #also just edited out like 4 typos whoops. sleeby

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heybank · 1 month

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umm so i wrote a little fic/blurb idk i don't think it's good but it's something that's been stuck in my head for a while with my own little oc named grace but her name is only mentioned a few times so it could totally be ignored and seen as reader.

anyway this is my first ever fic so please be kind to me and if you have suggestions or other fic ideas i'd love to hear them.

not proof read and lowercase intended.

and if you think it's awful please lie to me i'm fragile 😔

deny

you are a lover girl. a hopeless romantic, someone who dreams of finding "the one" and living happily ever after. kie often says you tend to fall in love a little with everyone you meet. you can't help it though, you have so much love in you, it feels like you'll burst at the seams if you don't share it with others.

you think you're in love with your best friend jj maybank. no one understands you the way the wild blond haired boy does. no one can communicate with you with just a single look the way jj does. no one makes your heart beat out of your chest and your tummy flutter the way his dimpled smile does, eyes crinkling at the corners, a slight sunburn on his nose because lord know that boy doesn't use the sunscreen you bought him.

so yeah you're in love with jj maybank but then yesterday a different boy kissed you. pope heyward, your other best friend, genius extraordinaire whom you thought was maybe in love with kie but no- he kissed you and you felt a tingle in your ever beating heart. heat filled your cheeks and your ears became fuzzy. that was a new feeling when it came to pope. it made you excited to explore because as much as you love jj, you don't think the boy would ever return your undying affection because your friendship meant too much.

----

you stood in the threshold of popes bedroom, gasp stuck in your throat, eyes wide and mouth open at the sight before you. you’re not sure how to process what you’re seeing.

before you on the bed that pope kissed you on not even 24 hours ago, is jj maybank, your closest friend, kissing the heyward boy.

so many emotions flow through you at the sight before you.

shock because not once has jj; or pope for that matter mentioned or even hinted that they liked men- or each other. then again, jj has always liked beautiful people and pope is certainly that.

sadness because you and pope had literally just kissed. maybe you were naive to think a simple kiss meant something more to the boy, but it was pope, you don't think there's a mean bone in his body. then again you’ve always been too much of a romantic, too blinded to really see what’s in front of you. blinded by your want and need to be loved that perhaps you create situations in your mind that you interpret as reality? maybe you need to contact your therapist again. you're sounding even more delusional than before.

lastly, you feel jealousy. the angry green monster rumbling around in your tummy, making its way up your throat. you’re not sure what exactly is making you jealous because the image of the two boys kissing is surely confusing. are you jealous because pope is kissing another person who isn’t you? a part of you is jealous because he’s kissing jj. or maybe it’s that jj is kissing pope or that maybe they’re kissing eachother and they're not kissing you? you're not sure at this point. dear diary jealousy is a disease babes, and you are infected.

you must have made a noise because next thing you know, the two boys are pulling apart, a string of spit still connecting them and for a second your love rattled brain is jealous of it. the spit that is, because deep down you’ve always known that you wanted them both… to be the one to connect them. you feel slightly crazy being jealous of spit.

jjs face goes beat red and then flushes pale, like a ghost. he looks terrified and like he might vomit all over the floor in a second.

“grace!” popes panicked voice reaches your ears but they’re still kind of ringing from the shock of seeing your supposedly straight best friends kiss.

in your heartbroken haze you wonder if you're being a bad ally right now. you love the gays you swear! you just never pictured pope and jj as being a part of the gays ™.

you clear your throat, “jb and kie are waiting for us downstairs. we were going out on the boat today, remember?”

you try and say that as gently as possible because jj still looks like he’s going to pass out and pope isn’t much better.

popes hands are shaking as he reaches for you and a part of you wants to pull away but you’re not mean. you’ve never been mean so even if your feelings are hurt you’ll always put your best friends feelings above your own. and it looks like pope needs to touch you. maybe to hold your hand and reassure him you’re really standing there, witnessing something that you probably shouldn’t have.

so many emotions flicker through popes eyes. you can’t really see his blush but you’re sure if you touch his face it would be hotter than the sun.

pope grabs your hands in his shaking ones. you can feel how clammy they are and you hazard a look back to jj who has yet to even move. you’re a little concerned he’s gone into shock.

you let out a soft sigh and smile at the boys, a smile that is mostly genuine.

you squeeze popes hand and make eye contact with the panicked blonde boy on the bed.

“it’s ok jj. i won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.” you speak kindly, as if you’re talking to a scared feral cat.

you only see jj swallow hard. “for what it’s worth, i understand the appeal... wanting to kiss pope and all.” you tease hoping to cut the obvious tension in the room. you feel like you're the one choking now.

jj and pope both let out huffs like they’re afraid to laugh but also relieved you’re not upset.

“you’re not mad?” jj croaks like he still has a frog lodged in his throat. he looks at you with soft wonder, like you’re the best thing in his life. his stare makes your tummy flutter.

“of course not. you guys are my best friends. i only ever want you to be happy!” you reply honestly. jj deserves happiness after the shit life he’s been dealt. he deserves good things and if you have to set aside your feelings in order for him to have good things then by golly you’ll do that.

“grace, about yesterday-“ pope starts off,

“don’t worry buddy, already forgotten.” you cut him off. hopefully saving him the strife of having to apologize to you about the kiss and saving you the embarrassment of him telling you he regrets your kiss. you don't think you could survive hearing that out loud.

you march over to jj still holding popes hand, effectively dragging the boy with you. you throw your arms tightly around jjs neck and after a heartbeat, jj returns your hug. you move your head to look at pope and nod at him, encouraging him to join the hug.

“now c’mon. you know how pissy jb gets when he’s made to wait” you giggle.

you lead the boys out of popes room and home and into the twinkie without giving them an option of saying no.

“finally! i thought y’all died or something. what took so long” john b huffs in exasperation.

“my fault jb!” you quickly chirp so the boys don’t have to panic and think of a lie “pope showed me the new book he got and it’s my favourite and i starting gushing and you know me i can’t shut up and… well i forgot why i went up to get them in the first place” you giggle with a sheepish smile.

“you’re so lucky you’re cute, grace” kie laughs teasingly.

you see pope and jj making eye contact. you have a feeling you might need to play therapist for them soon. pope doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings without beating around the bush and well, jjs favourite thing to do is deny deny deny.

actually, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do too! deny you have feelings for pope. deny you have feelings for jj. deny you ever saw them kiss and deny that them kissing only upset you because you weren’t a part of it. deny that a part of you enjoyed it. deny that your feelings matter in this situation and deny that if given the chance, you’d love to be in between a beautiful jj maybank and pope heyward sandwich.

yep, deny deny deny. this is gonna be a long freaking summer.

#jj maybank #kiara carrera #obx #outer banks #pope heyward #jj maybank x reader #pope x reader x jj #jj maybank x oc #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward x oc #john b routledge #my fic #obx fanfiction #obx fic

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dead-girl-tells-stories · 3 months

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Almost finished reading Dungeon Meshi and I got an idea

So in Dungeon Meshi or Delicious in Dungeon, there are these... dungeons.

And from what I have gathered dungeons can be made naturally or artificially but both types have the same few things in common.

They are made to contain demons

They attract adventures

The dungeons have lords who manage/control the dungeon and are given the power to do so by the demons

I know that I'm skimming over some important bits, but long story short, the demons come from an alternate dimension called 'The Infinite Realm' and feed off of people's desires, the Lord of the Dungeon's specifically.

That being said... (incoming dp x dc prompt)

Beings from the Infinite Realms aren't ghosts but demons. And while they do still have obsessions, they lack desires. And so, they've become something they hunger for.

Danny learns this the hard way when he accidentally eats his parents' desire to hunt 'ghosts'.

When the endless, all-consuming hunger, that had been growing inside himself became just a bit satisfied by the action, he got scared. He ran to Clockwork, who immediately explained everything to him.

From there he became terrified. He didn't want to eat people's desires, especially considering that he had some of his own. But CW explained that while other demons will most likely never be satisfied no matter how many desires they consume, because of Danny's halfa status he may be able to. (Also it would be a bad thing if the baby starves itself. No one wants the baby to starve!)

To test out this theory, CW pulls (more than) a couple of strings, and soon his dungeon was set up in Gotham City in the DC universe.

He felt a bit bad since he had to set up shop in another ghost's/demon's territory, but Lady Gotham seemed to have taken a liking to him.

Danny takes his time searching for the most desperate person he can find, (Lady Gotham is leading him to some of the most desperate people in her city, aka the Batfam.), and appears to one of them as a fawn (signifying his hunger and current 'lack' of power). He then looks deep into their mind and offers them the power to fulfill all their desires.

The Batfam? They should be better than this, but damn they were in a tight spot and the city is going to shit because the rouges have been more active than ever, and their family is on the verge of crumbling!... And the answer to fix it all was right there, just within their reach.

They held the fawn in their arms gently. Its ivory wings, coat of starlight, and piercing Lazurus green eyes. Gotham began to change.

A few years later, some members of the JL and the JLD are once again trying their hand at clearing the dungeon but are a bit discouraged because last time their team was wiped out completely.

It was inconvenient how their powers were nullified whenever they were inside the dungeon, but they had yet to find a spell to counteract it.

In an attempt to get past the third floor, they teamed with a team called Team Phantom, which comprised two young adult siblings, their 12-year-old sister, and a few teenagers.

Morally, they were against this. No one this young should be trying to clear the dungeon! But on the other hand, this team was the closest to getting to the fourth floor.

Sucking it up, they teamed up with the young dungeon dwellers and quickly found out why they were so close to getting to the third floor.

These kids were skilled. These kids were powerful. These kids were trained. On top of that, they didn't care about their lives! Because these kids? They wouldn't- no! They couldn't die, and they were using it to their advantage.

The JL/JLD now had much more to worry about than clearing the dungeon.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dp dc crossover #inspired by dungeon meshi #go read it #or watch it #Danny likes delicious meals so he chooses complex people #it could be a single Batfam member that becomes the lord of the dungeon #if thats the case any of them could work #but the batfam as a whole?#*maniacal laughter*#We all know who team phantom is soooo #if Gotham wasn't a hub for the supernatural before it certainly is now #this was a ploy made by CW and LG so that the baby wouldn't starve itself #they didn't expect it to go like this #this is also me pushing my 'Danny is a cool biblically accurate space deer god looking thing with wings thats so wynorrific #it drives you mad by looking at him but you can't fucking stop so you're stuck in the madness of his horrifying beauty' agenda #also #Danny becomes extremely morally grey in this #not good #not evil #just hungry #sorry if this is shit i wrote the first half half asleep and the next half the next morning when I had lost the idea #*cries*#*sobs*

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starlightshadowsworld · 10 months

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THL but Percy doesn't go anywhere.

He and Annabeth are patrolling the Camp boundaries and hear something.

They go to inspect it, hear a roar and that silence.

Jason stumbles towards them, terrified.

He looks like he's been running for days, his clothes are wrecked, he's littered with injuries.

And he's missing his shoes.

He reaches out to them in panic and says something neither understand.

Before blacking out.

Waking up in the infirmary with no memory of how he got here.

Nor any memory of who he is.

He struggles to speak and manages to clumsily write "Jason" on a notebook but that's all.

Piper and Leo came to camp around 2 months ago are getting to know this crazy world and their new lives.

Piper, not content with how the Aphrodite cabin is being looked down on.

And no one wanting to teach her how to fight.

And it being Clarisse of all people who ends up mentoring her.

Some say its out of respect for her old friend, some say its because Piper reminds her of her.

Leo, getting to know his new siblings but he tries and fails to keep them at arms length.

He refuses to use his fire.

And has not told anyone about it's existence. For the fear it will ruin everything like it always does.

But it's getting harder to keep it a secret.

And maybe part of him... Wants to believe it's a blessing and not a curse.

Their paths cross when Jason starts to have dreams about a woman calling for his aid.

Because he's not the only one having them.

Cue Percy cursing in the corner.

Jason while he can speak he sometimes struggling with his words.

And sometimes makes barking noises.

Grover thinks he could be of the wild but has no idea what or how.

Because while Jason doesn't have a strong scent, it's definitely of a demigod.

Perhaps he was blessed? Not that Grover can see it.

But it's not the biggest thing to worry about.

Though he has sent like... 3 people to the infirmary from biting them.

They startled him.

... So there's that.

Piper and Leo are trying to figure out their dreams together with Jason.

But he's having other other ones they aren't getting.

A wolf calling out to him.

Saying that the God's have stolen her pup and she will have him returned.

Jason doesn't know who she is but she feels familiar.

They manage to piece togrther that the woman is Hera.

Annabeth calmly gets up and punches a hole in the wall.

Because... Of course it's Hera.

When the, annoyance somewhat fades away Percy wonders why no one from Olympus has said anything.

They ask Mr D but he has no idea what they are talking about.

Jason can't help but feel the wolf in his dreams seems familiar.

And he feels the same way when the hunters of Artemis show up and the eyes of their lieutenant fall on him.

Thalia knows it's him.

She tells Annabeth as much.

"It's him, it's Jason."

"Thalia..."

"I know it's crazy, I know it's insane but it's him... Its him..."

"Okay, if you say it's him."

She doesn't get to confront him on it until during Capture the flag.

"Jason! Jason please, it's me?"

"I'm sorry I don't..."

Thalia wants to scream but she doesn't, she needs to be calm.

It's him.

She knows it's him.

Their attacked by campers and from being distracted she's knocked down.

A rage fills Jason that he hasn't felt before.

... He knows her...

Lighting bursts from his body in all directions, shocking the now scared campers away from Thalia.

"GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"

He rushes past, helping her up.

"Thalia?"

"You.. You remember me?"

"A little... I'm sorry... I'm sorry I forgot."

She makes a sound that's a mix of a sob and a laugh and pulls him into a hug.

He hides his face in Thalia's shoulder not liking the attention. When he realises everyone is looking at him.

Or rather above him.

At the lighting bolt above him.

"All hail, Jason Grace. Son of Zeus, King of Olympus, Lord of the Sky. God of Thunder, Lightning, Kingship, Honor and Justice. All hail Jason Grace, son of the Lighting God."

Everyone's talking about what?! Zeus had another child?!

The chatter dies down when Rachel, who upon seeing Jason, glows bright green and da da da daaaa the oracle has entered the building.

Child of lighting

Beware the earth.

The earth giants revenge the seven shall birth.

The dove and the forge will break the cage.

And death unleash through Hera's rage.

Quest plays out and Jason gets his memories back.

Remembers that he's the son of Jupiter

Returns to camp.

And a lighting bolt appears overhead, this time with a numeral beside it.

For 1.

Chiron smiles sadly, taking it as acceptance to share the truth.

Tells the story of the Roman and Greek demigods.

"And our Jason, is not the son of Zeus but his Roman counterpart Jupiter."

Everyone reels taking in this information.

And while many are suspicious of the Romans, Jason has become a good friend and ally to them.

"Lupa said... That I must return... Maybe that's the next step?" Says Jason, standing tall. "Woah, hey we're not gonna let you alone." Says Percy, "agreed" Says Annabeth, Piper and Leo nods.

"I'm not losing you again." Says Thalia.

Not happy by Hera's explanation of having to keep them seperated.

Jason smiles warmly "than we shall go. To Camp Jupiter, together."

"Togrther!"

#Idk this is a mess #jason grace #heroes of olympus #thalia grace #percy jackson #annabeth chase #piper mclean #leo valdez #clarisse la rue #the lost hero #feral jason grace

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therantingsage · 2 months

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Misc additional observations/notes relating to the implication analysis post that I either forgot to add or omitted for pacing reasons.

This one's embarrassing to admit, but I literally did not remember this until the post was done and posted:

N being bad at keeping things to himself is literally the first thing we learn about him when he starts talking. "Inclusive reflexes" isn't what teaches Uzi this, it's literally the first thing she finds out about his character, so she has no excuse. There is no plausible deniability she knows her boyfriend can't keep secrets.

((Unrelated to anything but since I'm talking about the pilot like. Why does he fan himself here. Dude you don't even have feelings for her yet bro what's this about. Guy who really likes strong personalities I guess))

N's tiny little smile in Promening when Uzi admits to wanting his help. He's like, critically underappreciated by the people around him before this so Uzi reaching out to him here must be so meaningful to him. He wants to be helpful and she's letting him be.

And Uzi, too, despite being stubborn about it. N being so eager to offer help in the first place isn't something she's used to, either. I'm pretty sure the (correct) general consensus is that this is the episode she falls for him, and honestly all the blushing has very little to do with why I think that's the case.

Because, like...no one really bothered even pretending to get along with her. Like, aside from Thad, but that's for like one scene total before N enters the picture, and Uzi's "how do you know my name, people willingly talk to you" implies to me that they didn't have a lot of, if any, meaningful interactions before that point anyway. And then here comes N, who despite how they'd parted, doesn't even seem upset with her. They both spent their time apart terrified of things being bad between them....but it all just melts away when they reunite and the mutual genuine concern shines through. It's great.

N maybe has fragments of memories of life at the manor, not a lot, but he probably has the vague sense that people used to be nicer to him in general. So it's not as foreign to him. Uzi does not have that luxury so having N be so enthusiastically in her corner definitely touches her heart. And it shows through in how she interacts with him in this episode.

There's lots and lots of little moments in Cabin Fever that I like but this tiny sheepish blush is a funny one. Like he just. Alluded to talking about her. And that flusters her for some reason. We have no idea how much time has actually passed since the last episode but its clear from how little it takes for this reaction to happen that her feelings have grown stronger. She likes him and its cute.

This scene is one I want to talk about in more detail, though. Home establishes that V still has faint lingering feelings for N, so it's not that hard to assume that her behavior here is at least partially motivated by jealousy. She's petty and vindictive and jealous...but most importantly she's perceptive.

Uzi has abandonment issues, which I think is easy enough to understand so I'm not going to elaborate on it. But V figured that out, and makes this threat with the knowledge that Uzi is worried about being abandoned. Uzi fears the idea that she wouldn't be missed if she disappeared, and here comes V, claiming that the one person she cares most about wouldn't care either. Hitting her where it hurts, trying to convince her that her fears are justified and inevitable.

It's likely that this moment contributes to her eventually going feral. That the stress overheats her faster.

She's incredibly vulnerable, when she snaps out of it. Shares that specific fear with N, who reassures her. Because this whole scene is him telling her that no, he wouldn't be able to just get over it if she was gone, because their brief time apart in this single episode was already something that scared him. That she's already become important enough to him that her absence was keenly felt.

It's probably around here, or a bit after this point in the nebulous timeskip between this episode and the next, that N falls for her. Scratch that, his whole speech, as I said in the prior post, just...really feels like some kind of romantic-adjacent confession. But I don't think it WAS explicitly them confessing feelings for each other. N figures out he likes her in this episode I'd like to think, but that speech was the closest he could come to admitting that. Cuz. Y'know. Uzi needs reassurance in other ways right now, no point in muddying the issue.

((and also not news to anybody I'm sure but the song that plays during that scene is LITERALLY called 'Falling...for you??' so. y'know. hindsight is 20/20 this is genuinely the moment he realizes his feelings for her are romantic))

And additional thing I like that I think about a lot, but the way he deliberately choses to switch his hands to claws when he pries her wings open. "I'm a monster, leave me be" she says, to which he replies "Hey, look, I am too, see? It's ok". It's great, he's mirroring, trying to make her feel seen. And by the vulnerability of her next line, it works. They really just, understand each other so damn well.

Home stuff. The fact that the first word that comes to mind to describe him is 'cute' is funny enough, but the fact that she even goes so far as to SAY it out loud before hastily correcting herself. Looking at her bf's baby pictures-coded. Has to keep her image up tho, this version doesn't know her so she can't be too weird or open about it.

But she still wants this version to think she's cool cuz she's a dork who likes him. It's unclear how much of this episode is diegetic when you subtract Uzi, but since these are memories and not proper time travel, we don't know to what extent Uzi's trying to avoid affecting the events. She might not care at all. Did the real N even go down to that basement willingly at any point? I doubt it. But we don't know! And also that's not what I'm making this post to talk about.

Funny Solvercam-Uzi body language on display. Delighted he recognizes her finally, spits out something edgy to play it cool (genuinely my favorite Uzi line of all time), sheepishly looks back at him, and shyly averts her gaze when he thanks her before looking back. Had she her regular face I'm sure she'd be smiling and blushing about it. It's cute as hell. It's very open delight, when you think about it. But still awkwardly teenage. It's easy to see this and have it make a whole lotta sense if they were already dating at this point. Got that meaningful eye contact going on. She likes making him happy so she's proud she succeeded.

Him trying to help steady her when they land. She blushes and slaps his hand away like 'dude I'm fine people are LOOKING at us stoooooop >:('

Her tail chewing on him is fine tho because we don't know if she controls it fully or if it does things subconsciously. And also the others aren't actually looking at them in this shot. Neither of them make the tail stop chewing so at the very least N doesn't mind.

Still flustered easily when he shows her he cares tho. Early-relationship 'hehehe he likes meeee' moment, adorable. Still clearly giddy that someone cares about her.

He's so conflicted after 'Tessa' tells him Uzi needs to die. He loves her, he loves her so so much, but Tessa is his oldest friend. All the memories he has of her paint a picture of someone he's supposed to listen to. Someone he can trust. Someone who wouldn't lie to him. He spends the rest of this episode bracing himself for a goodbye he doesn't want to give and its heartbreaking.

And despite his fear...Uzi still manages to comfort him the best way she knows how. And it gets him to smile! Because that's what the two of them are to each other. He's scared...but she's with him, so its less scary.

They've both caught up to the moment. 'Oh. We're still holding hands while the other two can see oh god'. They're both tight-lipped. She bumps him and they let go, maybe N thinks 'oh, right, yeah, not in public' but then they hold hands again but with intent this time.

And once again, it gets N to smile! And a second later Uzi does too! Awkward little moment of intimacy that must be so refreshing for them because there's so much heavy stuff happening but now they get to be distracted thinking about something lower-stakes.

To me, this bit is an interesting parallel to the Cabin Fever falling scene. He tends to be pretty perceptive about Uzi's worries. He's a good listener. Uzi fears abandonment, he fires back with a promise to stay with her.

But here, the thing Uzi fears is that things are being kept from her. That these two are keeping secrets from her. But instead of assuring her that they'll talk later, like they said they would, he instead chooses to use this moment to put his foot down with 'Tessa'. He just lost V maybe, and he's not willing to lose Uzi too, so he's decided she must be wrong about this being the only solution to the problem.

Up until that very moment, she didn't realize hurting her was on the table. It comes out of nowhere, freaks her out, and confirms her fear that she's not being told something. So she runs.

And the guilt he feels for scaring her off is heartbreaking. Half this episode is limb-chopping, genuinely, so the fact that he chooses this bone-saw to cut himself free instead of the litany of other things he has that he knows are quicker can't be a coincidence. He's punishing himself. And, additionally, probably reminding himself of V, hiding things because he worries the truth will hurt. Which makes the V hologram showing up moments later thematically very appropriate.

Can't add anymore pictures to this so maybe I'll make a part three later lol

#Murder Drones #Nuzi #biscuitbites #md N #md Uzi #Uzi Doorman #These aren't as vital to my point last time but I still think about them

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thedo0zyslider · 5 months

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Jimmy’s breath hitches suddenly, because Grimlands' Count is basically on top of him now. He's straddling the Codfather, that's what he's doing, he's sitting in the blonde's lap. And it doesn't feel wrong, it feels....nice. Jimmy likes being this close to fWhip, he realizes, and has no idea weather he should be bewildered or terrified by that.

He doesn't get the time to be either, because soon there is a hand cupping his cheek, and the Codfather has to fight against himself so that he doesn’t lean into it.

"You're teeth..." fWhip mumbles, fingers lifting up his top lip slightly. "I never noticed how sharp they were before..." He sounds memorized as he inspects the cod's mouth, and Jimmy swallows nervously, sharp and horrifyingly pretty blue eyes inspecting every movement of his face. Why is he thinking that fWhip's eyes are pretty.

Jimmy quickly finds that he's not uncomfortable with this, weirdly, he's just.....a little caught off guard is all. (Given proper warning he thinks he would've gladly welcomed this, fWhip’s fingers insi—Nope, no, he's not having thoughts about that. Nope not at all.)

"Yeah it's the whole...fish thing..." Jimmy manages to get a sentence out, through it's messy and muffled due to his jaw being held open and all. fWhip just rolls his eyes at that, his gaze having turned little firey.

"I guessed that," The Count snorts. It's not annoyance in his tone, but something close to it. "I was just wondering..."

"Wondering....what!?" Jimmy says, not very comfortable with the pause between the ginger's words. Its making him rather worried in fact, considering what damn position the two of them are in.

fWhip leans closer with a smirk, whispering into the blonde's ear. Or where his ear would be if he was a person. "I was wondering how nice those canines would feel against my neck~"

The cod feels heat rush to his face at that, and his breath hitches and damn near stops. Okay, that was kinda hot, he had to admit. Like, that was really really hot. and the Count damn well knows it too, evidenced by the smirk on his face that gets even wider at the cods reaction.

"What?" fWhip purrs, thumbing his cheek teasingly. "You into that or something~" The cod thinks he's going to explode he's so into this, but that something he will never say out loud to this guy.

"Wouldn't tell you if I was." Jimmy huffs best he can, stubborn and red in the face. The Count shifts on top of him, pressing them impossibly closer, until their chests are pressed together.

"And what are you gonna do instead? Because I know you're into this~" fWhip taunts, and runs a finger over one of the cod's canines. An evil little idea pops up in the back on Jimmy's mind after a few seconds of fierce blushing, and that is exactly what he's going to do about it, thank you very much.

Slowly, Jimmy begins sucking at the finger currently in his mouth. He barely even thinks about what he's doing once he gets the idea, but it seems to work regardless. Cherry red flush spreads across fWhip’s face, reaching the tips of his pointed ears in the process. Innocently, he raises an eyebrow, as if confused, and keeps sucking. Normally, he would be smirking, but that's kinda hard at the moment, with someone still inspecting his teeth and all.

"Asshole." fWhip huffs, quietly, the sound almost in Jimmy’s ears. It is then when he notices how close they are, and how at some point, their foreheads had begun to touch.

fWhip lets out a another huff when Jimmy doesn't stop, and moves one of his hands, the one cupping the cod's cheek, away to trail down his side, teasingly fiddling with the hems of his clothes. Their faces have gotten closer somehow, lips just barely brushing, fWhip's heavy breath landing on his face.

A cold hand slips under his shirt, clawed fingers tracing over his stomach, and Jimmy whines at that. A needy whine too, a desperate one. Like he wants fWhip to do more than stick his fingers in his mouth, because he does. He just doesn't want to think about what that something else actually entails.

"Needy, aren’t you?" fWhip mutters teasingly. Jimmy nods quickly, and the Count smirks. Even though he does not act like it, the cod can see the barely restrained desire hiding in the fWhip's eyes. And if it wasn't for that, he likes to think he'd be a little less submissive right now.

The Count hums, clearly satisfied with this response. "And you're a good little fish too~" He slowly but surely removes his other hand from Jimmy’s mouth, grabs hold of the cod’s chin and finally smashes their lips together.

The cod gasps into the kiss, a little taken aback by the heat of it all. Not that he minds in the slightest. Sharp teeth nip at his bottom lip, and Jimmy happily lets fWhip's tongue slip into his mouth. Quickly the blonde realizes that dear god, this idiot is a really good kisser, he has to say. If he'd known that he would've been needy a lot sooner.

fWhip makes a few noises of his own before they pull away, webbed hands tugging at his hair and his own ones digging into Jimmy's waist and holding his cheek tight. Every point of contact burns like fire, so much so that the cod thinks it'll kill him before the lack of air does.

Eventually, their lungs burn too much, and the two have to pull away. fWhip does not let go of his face as he looks into Jimmy's eyes, panting. Jimmy feels a bit mesmerized by this all, and almost never wants the moment to end. Almost.

Once the Count catches his breath, he starts to pull away. Like he is ashamed, or embarrassed by this whole ordeal. Jimmy catches him by the wrist quickly, before the other can ever leave his lap. fWhip looks back, confused, and a near iron tight grip keeping him down.

"You're not just gonna leave after that?" Jimmy says, trying not to sound or look to heartbroken. His voice cracks a little, and his eyes go wide, and the cod knows he failed. He doesn't even know why he's so heartbroken over an enemy.

"You wanna do something else?" fWhip asks the question a little hesitantly, like he's not sure Jimmy will say yes. After the blonde had just practically begged him to stay. Even still, he moves back to his proper place, and the hold on his wrist loosens just a little.

"If you'll have me." Jimmy says softly, and lets himself smile, fWhip says nothing, and connects their lips again. The cod hums into it, this one a little less heated then the first, and kisses the Count back the best he can.

It's not the first kiss of the day, and certainly will not be the last. Both rules take a chance to relish in that, and all the stolen moments they are about to take. Moments they will probably never have again.

Even if they want them.

#ron.writing #fwhimmy #empireshipping #fwhip #jimmy solidarity #suggestive #DO NOT ask me how they got here. They just DID #I don't know what possessed me but it's been in my drafts since August so erm. Here u go

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fanfic-wonderland · 3 months

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This Is War {Fred Weasley} - Part 2

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After avoiding Fred for so long, (Y/N) finally has to face him again when they're paired up for a Potions assignment.

Word count: 7.8k

Read part one here.

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“Are you still not going to talk to him?” Daphne asks me during lunch, the same way she has asked me every day for the past few weeks.

Ever since I told her about my little… moment with Fred, she hasn’t stopped talking about it one way or another, even when I’ve asked her plenty of times not to. She seems to have become obsessed with the idea of him and I getting together because, according to her, we’d make “an oddly cute” couple, and also “because there is nothing interesting happening in my life and I want to live through you”. I don’t know what’s gone wrong with her head; I have made it extremely clear that the kiss meant nothing to me, that it was just something that happened in the heat of the moment when I was dampened and terrified and he was the only one there giving me the slightest bit of comfort. Either she still doesn’t get that, or she just doesn’t want to. “For the last time, Daphne Greengrass,” I say through gritted teeth. “No. And It’s the last time I’ll say it.”

Daphne whines like a toddler. “But why? It’s clear that he wants to talk to you!”

The kiss happened nearly two weeks ago. After I fled the scene, Fred made numerous attempts to approach me, but I would always find a way to cut the conversation short or avoid it at all costs. He seemed to finally get the hint because It’s been a few days since his last attempt. The only one who hasn’t gotten the hint yet is the girl sitting across from me. “He has his own life to worry about. I’m pretty sure he dropped it already, and so should you.”

She pouts as I stab a piece of pork chop and chew on it. “How are you so sure if you haven’t even talked to him about it yet? Maybe he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable and he’s just waiting for you to reach out to him.”

“Forget it, Daphne, there’s nothing to talk about,” I state firmly. “I made a stupid little mistake, that’s all. It’s not like I’m going to go ahead and do it again.”

“I bet you want to, though,” she mutters as she drinks from her cup.

Her voice is low, and she thinks she’s sneaky, but I hear her. I refrain from saying anything else about it, though. It’s no use trying to convince her otherwise.

Fortunately, Daphne does not bring him up for the remainder of our lunch, nor does she bring him up while we learn how to turn vinegar into wine during Charms, or when we’re fighting not to fall asleep during History of Magic. I begin to think that maybe she’s finally gotten the hint until we arrive at the Potions classroom.

Professor Snape places a small bubbling cauldron on top of his desk as we all walk in—Gryffindors on one side of the room and Slytherins on the other. Through the corner of my eye, I spot the unmistakable pair of redheaded twins, sitting two tables to my right, and I fight the urge to turn and see if one of them is looking. “Settle down, all of you,” Professor Snape says in his usual dull voice. “Today, aside from your usual class, you will be placed in pairs for a special project. You will have to work with another student and brew the most powerful Truth Serum to ever exist—the Veritaserum. While it is very easy to sneak it into someone’s pumpkin juice, the brewing process is long and complex. That is why you’ll be working with a partner to make this potion. The longer its effect, the higher your grade.”

A Gryffindor boy raises an arm and Snape turns to him with a sneer. “Does that mean we have to work on it through Spring break?”

“Unless you want to fail, then yes, you should start on the first day of Spring break.”

Nearly every student in the classroom, including Daphne and I, groans in protest. Snape’s lips curl up into a nasty smirk. “That’s quite enough, I do not need to hear your whining. Get it done, or else you fail my class.”

As students begin to look around for their desired partners, I link my arm with Daphne’s. “It shouldn’t be too hard once we combine our geniuses.”

Daphne laughs and agrees. Professor Snape’s eyes fall on us for a quick second before he adds, “I forgot to mention that this is not a friendship project. This time, I’ll be assigning the pairings.”

The class groans even louder than the first time. “Enough,” Snape holds a hand up and we quiet down. “Perhaps when you learn to behave in my class I’ll give you the privilege of choosing your partner, but right now you'll work with what I give you. Now…”

Snape taps the cauldron with the tip of his wand twice and two small pieces of paper fly out of the cauldron. He catches them mid-air and begins to read aloud. “Johnson, Angelina and Warrington, Cassius.”

And then he does the same thing with the rest of the students. Daphne and I frown at each other once we hear her name being called alongside Alicia Spinnet but I guess it was expected that we’d be separated for this assignment from the beginning. The problem is, I realize as I scan the room, that there’s no one else I’d like to work with, and the people who would be fairly tolerable are already paired up with someone else. This assignment is looking to be the worst of the year so far.

“Weasley, Fred and (Y/L/N), (Y/N).”

The absolute worst.

Daphne gasps quietly once she hears the names, her eyes on the brink of popping out. “Did he just…”

“Uh-huh,” I can’t construct a proper reaction. It feels like someone has just slapped me.

I make the mistake of looking over at Fred only to find that he’s already staring at me. He shrugs innocently but he’s clearly trying to hold back a smile while George is dying from laughter behind him. I glare at them and turn away. It can’t be a coincidence that we ended up working together. I refuse to believe that life is this cruel. “I don’t get it,” I protest as we walk out of the classroom. “How in the bloody hell do I get paired up with the person I wanted to avoid the most?”

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Daphne suggests, like there actually is a bright side. “At least you’re not working with Crabbe or Goyle.”

“You know, I think at this point I’d rather be working with either of them. At least they’re tame.”

“Yeah, and they’ll probably be more concerned with trying to eat your lunch or something.”

I laugh at her words but it is still not enough to distract me entirely from the situation. Because at the end of the day, I’m still paired up with Fred Weasley for an assignment I could do independently. “What have I possibly done to deserve something like this? There’s no way that life would just pull something like this out of nowhere.”

Daphne places a hand on my shoulder. “I did tell you to clear things out with him.”

I sigh. “You did. Do you think I’m being punished for avoiding the situation?”

“I totally do,” She nods. “Well that, or maybe it was just that Felix Felicis I drank in the morning taking effect,”

“True,” I agree… and then I halt my steps. “Wait, what did you just say?”

She stops walking as well, blinking cluelessly. “Oh, remember that Felix Felicis I brewed months ago? Well, I drank some of it today to help me with the Transfiguration test and I guess I did a great job brewing it because I seem to keep getting good luck everywhere I go. Neat, right?”

“And you’ve also been crying about Fred and I not talking for weeks,” I grab her by the collar of her shirt and she shrieks. People passing by shoot us odd looks but I’m too busy throwing daggers at her. “You were wishing for something like this to happen and of course, as soon as you drink a bit of Liquid Luck, it happens.”

“Well…” She tries to think of something before she gives up. “Okay yeah, so maybe it was kind of my fault, but you know what? You’ll thank me soon enough.”

“Right now I want to murder you,” I push her back and start walking away.

“Oh, hush, It’s not that big of a deal,” Daphne catches up. “So what if you have to work with him on a potion that takes too long to brew? So what if you have you spend your free time with him and—”

“Stop, stop, stop,” I cover my ears. “I do not want to hear it!”

Daphne leans closer and lowers her voice. “Well, you better do something about that because I think he’s waiting to talk to you.”

I follow her eyes and turn to look at Fred, who is usually walking alongside George and Lee Jordan but now is on his own leaning against a wall, hands buried in his pockets. He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s staring at me and I have to turn away. “I guess I do have to talk to him at some point. There’s no way out of this…”

She shakes her head slowly and I sigh. It takes every bit of me to turn back around and start walking towards him, but I do it. For the first time in what feels like so long I’m standing face-to-face with him; the two of us just stare at each other for a few moments. “Hi,” Fred breaks the silence.

“Hi,” I say flatly.

There’s a slight flirtatious glint in his eyes all of a sudden. “So… we’re all coupled up now, eh?”

I blink. “Can you not phrase it like that? Anyway, as you already know we have to work on this potion during our Spring break.”

Fred nods slowly. “Right…?”

“So, that means that we’ll have to meet outside of Hogwarts.”

“You want me to come over to your house, then?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I tense up. I could never consider asking him to come over to my house, not even jokingly. That place is cold and empty, and my family is not the most welcoming with families like Fred’s. Even if I’m not fond of Fred, I would never want to put him through something like that. “Your house sounds like the better option, if you don't mind.” I say.

Fred raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes, why?”

He shrugs. “I just think that maybe my house won’t be to your taste, that’s all.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. As long as your family doesn’t mind, I can stop by.”

“They won’t. Here—” Fred takes out a folded parchment paper and hands it to me. “Here’s my address. I’ll see you, then?”

“Yeah. Until then.”

We walk away from each other and I’m feeling nauseous all of a sudden.

Bloody hell, I have no idea how I’ll survive this…

***

The first day of Spring break arrives in the blink of an eye. Part of me is glad that I don’t have to spend my day at the manor because I’d rather be anywhere else, even Fred Weasley’s house. The other good thing is that, since I can finally use magic outside of school, I can simply apparate anywhere whenever I want. We decide to meet close to sunset, so around five thirty I gather everything I need and I get ready to disapparate from my house without the need to remind my parents where I’ll be. I’m not even sure if they’re still around (or if they even care) but I don’t think of them as the horrible sensation of apparating begins. Everything twists and turns around me, including myself, until finally, I stand amid sunshine, peace, and fresh air. I take it all in once I regain my composure. The place is a beautiful meadow and in it, a few yards away from me, stands a very peculiar, very lopsided house. It’s several stories high, with about four or five chimneys perched on top of its red roof, and a nice open yard at the entrance. I look around to make sure that there are no other houses around. This has to be it.

I walk toward it, careful not to bother the chickens wandering around the yard. There’s a sign near the entrance that reads THE BURROW and that’s how I’m certain that I’m in the right place. Fred specifically wrote that name down on the instructions.

Now that I know that I’m at Fred Weasley’s house, I start getting a tad bit nervous. “Come on, (Y/N), you got this. You’re just here to work on a school project, It’s no big deal.” After taking a few deep breaths, I finally find the courage to knock on the door. For the first few seconds, nothing happens, but soon I begin to hear faded footsteps coming from inside. They start sounding closer, and soon enough someone is opening the door. It’s an older woman with lovely red hair, slightly shorter than me. I instantly know that I am staring down at Fred’s mother. “Hello, dear. You must be (Y/N),” She greets me warmly and I nod with a courteous smile. “Oh, good, how wonderful that you’ve made it! Fred has talked so much about you these past few days.”

“Has he?”

“Oh, yes—come in, come in!” Mrs. Weasley steps aside so I can cross the threshold. “And he wanted everything to look good before you arrived. It usually takes a lot to get him to do his chores, but this time he started on them without me even asking him, so I bet you’re quite a special girl. Anyway, you set your stuff over there on the sofa, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll fetch him. Dinner’s almost ready so I hope you’re hungry.”

She gives me one final smile before she walks up the stairs while calling Fred’s name, but my mind can only spiral around the things she was saying a moment ago. My face feels like It’s boiling, and it shouldn’t be, but the fact that his mom thinks that I’m a ‘special girl’ to him makes me…

Nope. No. No. You need to snap out of it, girl.

I focus my attention back on my surroundings. Everything is so different from my house… and yet, somehow, It’s so much better. The living room is welcoming and cozy and homey. The smell of roast beef and potatoes fills the air, making my stomach grumble. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was earlier. I sit down on the sofa and wait patiently for Mrs. Weasley to come back. I’m staring at the family clock, watching the golden hand with Fred’s face on it pointing at the word HOME, until I hear quick footsteps coming down the stairs. I turn to look at Fred’s real face this time. “I see you were able to get here without getting lost on the way,” He says.

I pry my attention away from the fact that his hair is dripping wet and sticking to his forehead like he just got out of the shower. “I did not doubt myself for a moment. Shall we start working on the potion so we can get it over with?”

“Wow, you really don’t want to be here, do you?” Fred chuckles. “We’re not even going to wait for dinner first?”

I sigh. “I just don’t think It’s a good idea for me to stay too long.”

“Because you kissed me.” He doesn’t say it like a question.

“Can you not say that so loud?” I shush him, making sure his mom is still out of sight, but his grin does not falter. I don’t even want to imagine how red my face is. “But… yes, kind of.”

“Well, I’m willing to look past it if you want me to,” He says. “Unless there’s another reason you don’t want to stay?”

I furrow my eyebrows. “What other reason could there be?”

“I guess I thought that maybe you’d think my house isn’t as nice as yours…”

I stare at him in disbelief. “You really have to stop assuming that I have some sort of superiority complex over you. And for your information, I think your house is lovely.”

Fred looks surprised for a moment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I confirm. “I probably like it a lot more than mine.”

He stares at me for a second but before either of us can say anything else, Mrs. Weasley comes back to the room. “Fred, why don’t you show (Y/N) around the rest of the house? I’ll call you all back here once the food is ready.”

Fred turns to me. “You want to?”

I cannot bring myself to say no in front of his mother. “Sure,”

He starts his little house tour from the top floor, which happens to be where his younger brother, Ron, and his best friend, Harry Potter, stay. There are five floors in total but there’s not much to see. It's mostly just the bedrooms, but the house is still larger than what I had envisioned. The family is much larger as well. “This is the second floor, and our last stop,” Fred says once we take the last step. There are two bedroom doors on this floor level. “And this is mine and George’s room. I’ll let you get a sneak peek of our latest invention if you behave.”

I roll my eyes as he opens the door. “Gee, what an honor.”

Fred and George’s bedroom is somehow almost exactly as I had imagined it—not that I’ve been spending time imagining what their room looks like. It’s a simple room: it has two identical beds, each with a bedside table, a large wardrobe, some posters pasted around the walls, and a desk holding stuff… lots of different stuff. There is a particular lingering smell of gunpowder around and I cannot even begin to imagine the things that happen inside this walls. I step inside and glance at the mess on the desk. Amongst everything else, I see a briefcase with the words Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes engraved on the side sticking out from the rest of the things. I point toward it with a questioning look. “Ah,” He clasps his hands together. “I see you’ve already spotted our products.”

“Your products?”

“George and I invent joke products,” Fred explains. “We’ve actually started testing them out at Hogwarts recently.”

��Really, at Hogwarts? And you don’t get in trouble for it?”

“Well, I didn’t say that,” Fred wags his finger practically on my face. He walks to the case and opens it; a bunch of bottles, vials, and boxes of all kinds jump out all at once and set themselves in front of us like a magic exhibition. “But anyway, we mostly just want feedback. We’re planning to open our own joke shop after we graduate and we want everything to be right.”

“Huh,” I never would’ve guessed. When he mentioned their “inventions” I instantly assumed he was talking about crafts or something. I know Fred and George love to get under people’s skin with their little pranks, but I never thought that they loved pranking so much they wanted to build a living around it. But then again, we’ve never been close, so all I know about them is what I've seen back at the castle, which I also tend to avoid.

As I go over the products in silence, my eyes get drawn to the sight of a small brown box. It doesn’t have a label or a logo or any eye-catching design, but it has COMB-A-CHAMELEON handwritten on it and that’s enough to get me intrigued. I look back at him, asking for his permission, and when he motions for me to go on with his hand, I grab it. Inside I can only find an ordinary-looking hairbrush, which throws me off because I was expecting something more, I don’t know, magical? I guess my confusion is clear because Fred laughs lightly while I just keep staring. “Would you like to try it out?” He asks.

I look up at him warily, looking for any signs of malice, but all I can find is a redheaded boy who seems excited by the idea of me using one of his products. “I don’t know if I should…”

“I can promise you that It’s nothing too bad.”

“You don’t strike me as trustworthy when it comes to these things.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Fred admits. “But I’m telling the truth this time, I promise. Go ahead, try it.”

I almost back down from it but I can’t help feeling bad just thinking about it. Fred looks like a kid who attempted to make breakfast by himself and is waiting for his mom to eat it. So I grab the brush and, hesitantly, I start combing my hair. A few brushes are enough to do the trick. Soon enough, I feel some tugging happening around my head. The process lasts a few seconds and then I feel the weight of my hair go down, but it feels lighter. Fred rubs his chin while he stares at me. I have no idea how I look but he nods in approval. “Alright,” He motions toward the mirror hanging from the door. “Go ahead and take a look.”

When I turn to look, I gasp. I expect my hair, which I had let fall down my back in curls earlier, to look like a bird’s nest by the time I’m done, but much to my surprise it is now pulled back into a nice long braid. “Fred,” I run my fingers through it. “This is very impressive! And you guys came up with this from scratch?”

“Yup. Every single one of them.” He sounds proud of himself and his brother. And he should be.

“What else do you have?”

“Oh, tons of stuff,” He reaches and grabs another box, the same color but slightly bigger. This one says SKIVING SNACKBOX in big bold letters and when he opens it there's a ton of what looks like individually wrapped pieces of candy. Fred takes a single piece and removes the wrapping. One side is an orange color while the other one is purple. “This is our most tested product so far. When you eat the orange half of the candy you start to feel ill—nothing too bad, just enough to get you out of class—and then once you’re finally out, you take the purple half and you feel better again, ready to enjoy your free time. Brilliant, I know.”

“And you’re aware that this leaves a horrible example for younger generations, right?”

“Yeah, we hope so,” He rubs his palms together and it reminds me of a cheesy villainous moment. Then, he offers me the open candy in his hand. “Wanna try it out?”

I roll my eyes and push his hand away. “I can’t believe that you and your brother are throwing your talent away by making… these.”

“Wait, did I just hear a compliment in between all of that?” Fred leans close with a hand behind his ear, pretending to be bad at hearing.

My eyes roll for a second time because this boy just loves to make my eyes… nevermind. “All I’m saying is that maybe you should focus your attention on creating something more… useful?”

Fred pretends to look offended. “This is useful! Why spend so many hours in class when you can be using the time to do more important things, like playing games or sleeping?”

“Of course,” I say sarcastically. “It’s not like we need education or anything,” I then spot a bigger box, this one a bright pink color, and point to it. “What’s that?”

When he sees what I’m pointing at, he smirks at me. “Those are our WonderWitch products. They come in a variety; we have things like pimple vanishers to love potions.”

I quirk a brow. “Love potions?”

“The best love potions around,” He says, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he leans against his desk. “Although I don’t think you really need one.”

I nearly gape at him. “What do you mean?”

Fred shrugs. “I think Malfoy may already have the hots for you. I see the way he looks at you.”

“Excuse me?!” In what world does Draco Malfoy like me? And in what world would I ever reciprocate those same feelings?

“I’m joking,” Fred chuckles at my mortified expression. “But I’m sure there are guys at the school who are head over heels for you.”

I scoff. “I doubt it.”

He stares down at me, and I swear we’re standing closer to each other than before. “I wouldn’t.”

I blink a few times. I want to say something back but I do not know what. What do you even say to that? Luckily, Mrs. Weasley’s voice coming from downstairs, announcing that dinner is ready, fills in the blank space and I take the opportunity to close the subject. “We should go.”

We exit the twins’ bedroom but before we can head down the stairs, I halt my steps. “Wait,” I point to the other door. “You never told me whose room that is.”

Fred turns to look at it. “Oh,” Something flashes across his expression and I’m unsure what it is. “No one’s. Come on, Mom’s waiting.”

He keeps walking and, although I find his reaction odd, I follow him without saying anything else.

***

I have never been close to my family. Due to our differing ideals, my parents and I always end every single conversation with an argument, so we try to speak to each other as little as possible. My brother is kind of walking along the same path, unfortunately, and although he’s a bit more tolerable, a lot of times it still feels like I’m talking to a wall. Dinner, specifically, has always been a horrible time, because I get to sit there and listen to them complain about muggle-borns, support the Ministry and its lies, praise my brother for following their footsteps, and criticize me for never wanting to be like them.

With the Weasleys, it feels completely different. It feels nice and comfortable, and the topic of blood status is not brought up once. Their dynamic feels so natural and like how a true family should be. Mrs. Weasley scolds her children every five minutes but you can tell that she loves them more than anything else. She also likes to insist on me grabbing more servings, and if my stomach was bottomless I’d probably eat every single thing on the table. Mr. Weasley is fascinated by my knowledge of the muggle world and how it functions, although It’s mostly just things I’ve learned from Muggle Studies. Contrary to what I’ve always thought of her, Ginny is pretty cool. She and I share similar tastes and her impressions are hilarious and spot on. Ron is a bit awkward and is mostly just eating and talking to Harry Potter, who happens to be staying over for spring break, but now and then he asks me a question if he’s interested enough in what I’m saying. The twins get in trouble several times, one of them being when they decided to sneak a fake spider into Ron’s plate, which made him nearly faint. And although I’ve been acting like a total bitch to him for so long, Fred makes sure that I don’t feel left out, often trying to include me in the conversation or playfully teasing me in a way. But I find that I don’t mind it; It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while.

After we’re done with dinner, I am forced to decline Ginny’s offer to go flying for a bit because we still have to work on the potion, which I had almost forgotten about by the time Mrs. Weasley brought in dessert, but I tell her that we can try and get together another time to do so. Fred and I head directly back to his room so we can get it over with. I'm surprised to discover that Fred works really well as a team when he actually commits to it. “Can I ask you a question?” I ask him while I add and stir Powdered Moonstone into the cauldron.

He thinks about it but not for long. “Only if I can ask one back.”

Of course, there’s always a catch with him. “Okay, whatever,” I say defeatedly. “Whose room is the one across from yours?”

Fred sighs as his usual playful demeanor suddenly drops for a moment, but he tries to hide the fact that the question has any effect on him as he helps me slice Adder's Fork. “It’s Percy’s, my older brother,” He finally answers. “He kind of doesn’t live here anymore.”

“Did something happen?” I ask without thinking. And then I realize how nosy I sounded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked, It’s none of my business—”

“No, I don’t mind,” He shakes his head. He’s being genuine. “You know about the whole thing happening with Harry and the Ministry of Magic, right?”

“About You-Know-Who coming back and the Ministry feeding lies to everyone because they’re cowards?”

Fred nods. “Pretty much. Well, Percy is siding with the Ministry because he's a git, and he and Dad had a very bad argument about it a few weeks ago. Then he just left and we haven’t heard from him since.”

“Oh, wow,” I say with wide eyes. “That must’ve been hard for all of you.”

“Especially for mom. She’s cried every single day after he left.”

There’s a hint of sadness in his tone that I’ve never heard from him before and I can’t shake away the uncomfortable feeling I get from it. I guess I’ve never thought of Fred Weasley as someone who gets sad now and then, who maybe even cries when he’s upset, but at the end of the day, he’s still human just like me. “I’m so sorry.” I can’t help but say.

“You don’t have to be,” Fred says, giving me a reassuring smile. “But anyway, now It’s my turn,” His tone changes drastically back to its typical self. “Why didn’t you want me to visit your house? Because I saw how tense you got when I mentioned it.”

“Simple,” I slightly raise the heat on the cauldron after Fred drops the Adder’s Fork into the mixture. “My family is not very pleasant to be around with.”

“I guess I kind of figured. Are they…?”

“Blood supremacists? Yes,” I answer. “The worst kind possible. That’s why as soon as I graduate I want to find my own place and cut all ties with them immediately. They know I want to, and they don’t care, either.”

Fred remains silent for a moment while he adds the Jobberknoll Feathers. “I didn't know that.”

I shrug. “I guess I've grown used to it. I've had to put up with them my whole life, but I'm glad I'll soon have the chance to go my own way.”

“Another question,” He says, almost like he’s asking permission to do so, but he doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Are your parents Death Eaters?”

The question stings, and I consider lying for a quick moment, but I slowly nod.

Fred’s eyes grow big. “Bloody hell.”

“Yup,” I say. It’s a conversation I don’t want to have with anyone but he would’ve found out eventually. It’s a shock he didn't know about it already. “That's why people tend to have a bad image of me once they find out. It's bad enough that I'm in Slytherin, people already think I'm a delinquent just by that alone. And that’s why I rather just not talk about my family.”

The room goes quiet for a second while I stir the potion clockwise. Then, Fred says, “Well, congrats. You’ve actually made me feel bad.”

“What for?”

“Before getting to know you better, I didn't like you for the mere fact that I thought you were an uptight Slytherin, just because you seemed to dislike mine and George’s pranks,” He explains.

I chuckle, reminiscing about the ongoing war between both of our Houses and all the times Fred and George managed to piss us off. “Hey, I don’t hold it against you. You’re not the only one. Besides, I didn’t like you either, so we’re even.”

Fred smirks. “Didn’t?”

“I guess you’re not… as bad as I thought,” I confess, avoiding his eyes.

“Huh,” He says. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

***

When I leave the Burrow, there’s a hollow feeling in my chest. As soon as I’m greeted by the cold presence of my parents back at the manor, I realize how long I’ve always longed for something like what I experienced tonight. In a single day the Weasleys made me feel like I'd been a part of their family forever, something my own family has yet to accomplish.

The Easter break goes by way too slowly, and for me that’s not necessarily a good thing. I spend a lot of alone time at the manor, although sometimes I meet up with Daphne, and on the second to last day, I go back to the Burrow one more time because there is still one important step to complete in the brewing process, which is to get the potion to absorb moonlight on the night of the full moon. But we manage to do it without trouble, although, by the time I'm back at the manor, there is something deep down still troubling me.

When we’re finally back at Hogwarts, Fred finds me to test out the potion the day before we have to show it in class, and we go all the way up to the Astronomy Tower. “Okay,” Fred says as soon as we are all settled in. “You got the good stuff?”

I grab my bag and take out the the vial of colorless liquid. It might as well be water, exactly as it should be. The two of us observe the Veritaserum with pride. I reach into the bag again and take out a glass dropper I’d borrowed from Daphne while he opens the vial. “So, who goes first?” Fred asks.

I purse my lips in thought. “What if we drink it at the same time and then we just take turns asking each other a question?”

“Nice. Rock paper scissors to see who gets to ask first?”

We tie for two rounds straight before he beats me with rock. I hand him the dropper and he squeezes some of the liquid into it. “Remember, three drops should be enough for it to work,” I remind him.

He nods. He passes the dropper back to me when he’s done and I take the three drops. There’s no smell and no taste, either, which is better than it being disgusting. I wait for something to happen, any indication that the serum has started taking effect, but I don’t feel any different. Fred seems to feel the same. “So… how do we know if It’s working?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Ask me a question, I guess.”

“Uhh… what’s your favorite color?”

“Seriously?” Fred holds his hands up in defense and I sigh and answer anyway. “Yellow.”

He raises a brow, eyeing me carefully. “Is that true?”

“It is.”

“Okay, then maybe It’s working! Now you ask me something.”

I try to think of something else, something that a guy like him usually lies about. “Did you do your homework during Spring break?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What were you doing in the meantime?”

“George and I were busy perfecting some of our products,” Fred answers. I don’t even have to question if It’s true. “Speaking of, who do you think is the cuter twin?”

“You, of course,” I say, and then I cover my mouth, but It’s too late. That’s far from what I wanted to say but I guess the serum really is working now. Fred is grinning from ear to ear without a care in the world, and he’s clearly enjoying this. Before he can say anything, I ask the first thing that comes to mind. “What do you really think about me?”

He blinks at me, taken aback, but he answers without stuttering. “Well, at first, I thought you were just another annoying, hateful Slytherin—cute, but hateful. But then I realized that you're probably the coolest girl I've ever met.”

Fred looks like he just got out of a trance and he doesn’t remember anything about the last few seconds. I smile in satisfaction. He thinks he has an advantage on this little “game” but he seems to forget that we’re both in it. I can pull a secret from him just as easily. “Interesting,” I comment. “You didn't mention thinking I was cute earlier.”

“Are you trying to start something here?” He asks.

I shake my head. “I think you started it a long time ago.”

“Okay, then,” He folds his arms across his chest. “Do you regret kissing me that night?”

I try to stop myself from talking but It’s useless. Don’t answer him. “No. I don’t think I ever did.”

Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up shut up!

“I knew it,” Fred says, stepping closer. My back makes contact with the nearest wall but neither of us pulls away. “I knew that wasn’t for nothing.”

I ignore the way his eyes move down to my lips. “Did you like it when I kissed you?”

“Yes. I still think about it to this day,” He confesses shamelessly. “If you don’t regret kissing me, does that mean that you have feelings for me?”

I have gotten to know more about Fred Weasley than I had ever imagined. I’ve been to his house, I’ve met his family, I’ve seen how he is outside of school… “I do,” I tell him, locking my gaze with his. “I like you.”

There’s a brief moment of silence in which the two of us just stare at each other, indulging in what I just said. Maybe I wasn’t thinking of confessing my feelings today but It’s out now. I could Obliviate him so he forgets any of this ever happened but I… I don’t want to. And I don’t think he wants either with the way he wraps an arm around my waist and connects his lips with mine.

With his free hand, Fred brings me as close to him as humanly possible and tangles it in my hair. This kiss feels so different than the first one; I was cold, wet, terrified, and not in a good state of mind when we kissed that night, and he was not expecting me to do that. But this time we’re both warm, needy, and desperate, and I’m tired of fighting it. I’m tired of fighting him. I want him. “Good,” Fred pulls away, his voice breathless, and my heart jumps. “Because I like you, too.”

I grab him by the tie and kiss him again, and he responds right away. He holds me like I’m the most precious thing to him, like he needs me more than anything, and it makes me want him even more. I tug at his hair and he groans softly, coaxing his tongue with mine as soon as I have access. We get so caught up in each other that I begin to forget where we are; my vision and all of my senses are invaded by a tall ginger boy who just couldn’t leave me alone in the first place. And I’m so glad he didn’t.

I pull away and Fred moves to kiss my cheek and then my jawline. My heart flutters in the best way. “How long have you liked me?” I ask him while I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I think I’ve been attracted to you for a long time but when you really had me in a chokehold was when you nearly succeeded in taking the Cup from us,” Fred says. There’s a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I was so impressed by you, and then when you kissed me…” He makes a gesture as if he’s been shot through the heart. I fail to hold back my laughter. “I’ve been hooked ever since.”

I bite my lip, playing with a strand of my hair. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Yes, actually, there is,” I initially expect a joke or a silly comment, but once again Fred Weasley manages to take me by surprise. “If you ever need a place to stay after you graduate, do not hesitate to tell me because I’m sure mom would love to have you staying over.”

My eyebrows raise and my eyes go wide. “What?”

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I was just—you were talking about it the other day and I-I wanted you to have the option, you know, just in case…”

“Fred Weasley, are you messing with me?” I raise my fist, ready to hit his arm.

Fred grabs my wrist gently and lowers it out of sight. He’s still smiling down at me like he’s amused. “I swear that I will talk to my mom about it if you ever need me to. You can use Percy’s room or mine and George’s room if we move out.”

That’s the nicest thing anyone could ever do for me. I never thought anyone would; aside from Fred, Daphne is the only person who shows any concern over me. I know she would have no problem with me staying with her after graduation but I also know she’s leaving immediately after to live in Paris. My eyes well up with tears but I fight to keep them in. “That would be nice,” My voice is slightly shaky, but steady. “Thank you,”

A single tear escapes but Fred gently wipes it away. “You’re very welcome.”

He leans down to peck my lips. I grin in content. “Do you want to go get dinner?”

“Oh, you’re inviting me out to eat?” He wiggles his eyebrows and I hit his arm playfully. I fight back a smile.

We gather our things and head down to the Great Hall. Fred holds my hand the entire way. I must admit that it feels nice to not fight back my feelings and just enjoy my alone times with Fred, even if It's something as simple as moving from one place to another. When we're approaching the large doors, I feel Fred’s fingers abandoning mine. I look up at him and, once I see the look on his face, I realize why he does it: he thinks I don’t want to be seen with him. And, yes, maybe if Fred Weasley went to grab my hand a few weeks ago I would probably bite it off but if he doesn’t hold it now I will most definitely cry. When he’s about to turn his head, I reach to grab his hand, seeing and feeling him jump under my touch. He stares at our linked hands like he cannot believe what he’s seeing and—is that a blush tinting his cheeks? I crane my neck up and smile at him. After allowing myself to know him a little better, I’ve discovered that I love catching him off guard more than anything. It shows a whole different side of him, and It’s very attractive.

We open the giant doors to the Great Hall after Fred recovers and we walk in. A few heads turn in our direction; some of them don’t think anything interesting is going on so they go back to their plates, while others stare curiously. A few Gryffindors whisper while George and Lee Jordan smirk our way. The Slytherin table cannot help but be a bit more obvious, murmuring stuff to each other that I’m sure is nothing good and sneering at the both of us as Fred leans in close. “I think you’re getting banned from Slytherin, but don’t worry, I’m sure Gryffindor could take you in.”

I chuckle as I roll my eyes. “They’ll get over it. Anyway, I don’t care what they say. Talk to you later?”

“Of course,” Fred says.

I go to walk away but he grabs my chin and before I can ask him what he’s doing he leans down to plant a quick kiss on my lips. He walks away, leaving me standing there frozen for a moment, and before he reaches his spot on the Gryffindor table he turns his head and winks at me. That bastard, I think as I shake my head. He did that on purpose!

When I finally reach my table I feel the daggers that my housemates are throwing at me piercing through my skull, but I focus on the beaming girl sitting across from me. I sigh as I grab my empty plate and begin serving myself. “Go on. Say whatever you have to say.”

“I told you!” She bursts. “I told you there was something there, and I told you that he liked you, and I certainly knew that you were just acting stupid. You liked him, too! You stupid, stupid bitch—”

“No insults, please.”

“But you are a stupid bitch, are you or are you not?”

“I can't say I'm not.”

“Staining the name of Slytherin yet again, (L/N)?” Draco calls from the other side of the table. “You shouldn’t even be carrying your family’s last name. It’s too big of an honor for a blood traitor like you.”

A few Slytherin laugh in agreement. “Should she even be allowed to sit with us? I bet Weasley germs are spreading around our table already.” Pansy Parkinson grimaces.

“Well, the Parkinson germs have been spreading for years, haven’t they?” I snap back at her.

“Yeah, and no one’s said anything about it,” Daphne adds, shrugging innocently.

Pansy glares at the both of us but does not say anything else. When she turns back to her group, Daphne rolls her eyes. “The only con about all of this is that you have to put up with stuff like that.”

“That’s true,” I agree. “But I honestly don’t care.”

I turn to look at the Gryffindor table, and automatically my eyes find Fred’s figure. He’s already looking in my direction and when our eyes meet we smile. Okay, yes, I do like him. I like him a lot.

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